


Cross Country

by mcgarrygirl78



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Drama, F/M, Friendship, Romance, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-16
Updated: 2011-10-16
Packaged: 2017-10-24 16:38:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/265626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcgarrygirl78/pseuds/mcgarrygirl78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ivy League girls from good families were not supposed to deal with this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cross Country

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write this story so much; I was willing to run the risk of making an ass of myself. Sometimes a writer’s gotta do what a writer’s gotta do.

She felt like a target but what else was new. On the run for almost a month, she didn’t know how much longer she could do this. She wasn’t an action hero, she was a diplomatic interpreter. Pacing back and forth across the cheap motel carpet, Emily Prentiss jumped when she heard the light tap on the door. _Please God, be who I think you are_. She crept over to the peephole, looked out, and breathed a sigh. She quickly opened the door, pulling her father in.

“Were you followed?” she asked breathlessly.

“No, at least I don’t think so. I have been in this business a long time, pumpkin. He couldn’t put a tail on me I wouldn’t recognize. He’s small time.”

“Oh dad, I wish that were true.” Emily walked further into the dimly lit room. As she lit a clove, she looked at the sleeping child on the bed. “This is the hardest thing I have ever had to do.”

“He will be safer.”

“How do you know? I'm going to worry about him, every second of every day. You and Nat are going to be in danger as well. Please do not underestimate his father. He is desperate right now.”

“We are going out of the country,” Gregory replied. “No one will ever miss two retirees. I have secured a passport for Jonah.”

“Where?”

“I would prefer you not know right now. That way that bastard will never find out. Pumpkin, I have to get back on the road.”

Emily nodded, snuffing out the cigarette. She moved over to the bed and picked up the toddler. He grumbled a bit, snuggling close to his mother’s breast. She stifled her tears as she kissed his raven curls.

“Mommy loves you baby. I love you so much; that is why I'm doing this.” She handed him to her father. “Please take care of him.”

“You know that I will. I am taking care of you too. There are two men outside who will level the playing field a bit.”

“What? I told you dad, no police; especially the damn Feds. They do not have my best interest at heart. All I need to do is disappear.”

“You have been on the run for a month. The only way that son of a bitch wants you to disappear is to die. I will be damned if I let that happen. I'm not asking anymore, I am telling you Emily. You're doing everything you can to protect Jonah, how do you think I feel as your parent?”

“Alright,” she held up her hands. “I don’t have time to argue but surely you knew that.” She hugged her father, kissing him and her son. Gregory Prentiss slipped her a disposal cell and an envelope.

“It’s $5,000; it’s a start.”

“But the Feds…”

“These guys are a little off the board.”

“What is going on, daddy?”

“You will live and that’s all that matters to me. I love you with my whole heart. Call me when you can.”

She nodded, watching him go to the door. He opened it, walked away, and two men came in. One was black, bald and muscular with a goatee. He was dressed in dark rinse jeans, hiking boots, and a grey long sleeved tee shirt. His partner, white, dressed more like a funeral director…black suit, shiny black shoes, and a maroon tie. They looked at her and she looked back.

“We’ll give Ambassador Prentiss a thirty minute head start and then get the fuck out of New Jersey.” The black guy said.

“I would at least like to know your names before you start bossing me around. Forgive me but after seven years I am a little tired of being bossed around.”

“I'm Agent Hotchner; my partner is Agent Morgan.” The white guy spoke up.

“Credentials please.” They showed their IDs and Emily took a good look at them. They were FBI, if the IDs were to be believed, but she didn’t see the point of all this. She wasn’t testifying; she didn’t know anything. This was personal. “Alright. I need to gather…”

“Everything stays behind.” Hotchner said.

“What? No!”

“If we do this…”

“I didn’t ask for this. I am not leaving the few treasured possessions I have left in some shitty hotel room in Elizabeth.”

“The baggage is just that lady,” Morgan replied. “Baggage.”

“Fuck you.” Emily grabbed her backpack, flung open her suitcase, and transferred the essentials. There were things she would never leave, to hell with the FBI. If that’s even who they were. She hadn’t met a Fed since this thing started that was looking out for anyone but themselves and their careers.

“Whatever fits in the backpack.” Hotchner said, sighing. “No over packing; we need to be as light as possible.”

“We are breaking protocol.” Morgan whispered. “This will surely come back to bite us in the ass.”

“Probably, but she didn’t ask for this. We can't ask her to leave everything behind Morgan…she just lost her son.”

Morgan was not impressed. When she was done, Emily put the backpack on. She slipped the phone in her jeans pocket and grabbed the box of cloves.

“A half hour is surely up,” she said. “Let’s go.”

***

She could not believe that she had actually fallen asleep. She had been living off catnaps here and there for about two weeks. Emily dealt with the double-edged sword of needing to stay awake and alert but knowing lack of sleep made her sluggish and slow to react. Even in the safety of the large SUV of the “FBI” agents, she still fought as hard as she could against the pull of bad dreams.

“What time is it?” she mumbled.

“Almost 6am,” Hotchner said. “The sun is nearly up.”

“I'm really hungry, I need to pee, and I want a cigarette.”

“We are not going to stop every couple of hours for your addiction.” Morgan informed her.

“Please tell me what crawled up your ass and died. Really, I want to know.”

“There is a rest stop about 35 miles away.” Hotchner jumped in. “We’ll stop, regroup, and get back on the road. Though I have to agree with my partner…cigarette breaks slow us down.”

“Forgive me if I am a tiny bit stressed.” Emily replied sarcastically.

She sat back in the seat, folding her arms. Her blood pressure was surely through the roof. There were enough things to worry about, like getting her brains blown out. If Thunderbolt and Lightfoot were going to be more trouble than they were worth, she was ditching them at the next stop. She could catch a ride with a trucker, take her chances, and maybe get halfway across the country.

If she had to she would rather end up dead in a ditch than sliced up in little pieces and dumped in the Potomac. Emily shivered. Never in her life had she spent this much time thinking about the different means of murder and body disposal. Ivy League girls from good families were not supposed to deal with this.

“Can we make a deal?” Emily asked aloud.

“What did you have in mind?” Hotchner asked.

“That we all get along. I don't know who you are or what the plan is but my father seems to trust you and I trust him. I will not make life hell for you but you will respect me and tell me what's going on. I am not some insipid gangster moll…I am well aware of what's happening.

“The Feds are not the only ones looking for me. I have done OK on my own so far; I'm a resourceful woman. I think the three of us could work well together. If you try to play two against one, you will wish you never met me.”

“That doesn’t sound like a deal,” Morgan replied. “It sounds like an ultimatum.”

“Semantics.” Emily replied. “Can we all agree?”

“I think that can be done.” Agent Hotchner said.

“Thank you, Agent Hotchner.”

“Everybody usually calls me Hotch.”

“I'm Emily.”

“I'm still Morgan. In the interest of full disclosure, you know since we are all getting chummy, why don’t you give us your side of this story? Everyone seems to have an opinion about what's happening.”

“It’s a long story.”

“We got nothing but time.” Morgan said.

“Unfortunately I don’t know if I can say the same.”

“You are safe with us.” Hotch told her. “That is not a question. I would not expect you to let go and relax but you can be sure no one is going to hurt you.”

“I can't be sure of anything, except that I'm probably going to piss my pants. I should have gone before we left.”

“Yeah,” Morgan murmured.

Emily made a face at him and Hotch watched her through the rearview. He grinned to himself.

***

Hotch was waiting for her when she came out of the bathroom. They were at a gas station and Circle K near the border of Pennsylvania and Ohio. Emily lit a clove, loved the feeling of the smoke in her bloodstream. She wanted to stretch her legs outside of the SUV so Hotch “stretched” with her.

“I'm not going to make a break for it, Agent Hotchner.”

“Alright.” He crossed his arms, leaning on the SUV.

“I thought about it, believe me. I graduated from Yale you know. I graduated summa cum laude from Yale and have a Masters degree from Columbia University. I married a man my mother actually approved of; I could not even begin to explain to you how difficult that was. I work for the State Department and shop at Whole Foods. Shit like this does not happen to people like me.”

“Excuse my French but shit doesn’t know anything about Ivy League universities and Whole Foods. It just has to stick to something.”

“Tell me about it. I may not have signed on for this but I will not let it have me. I've got too much to lose.”

“I'm really sorry you had to leave your son.” Hotch replied.

“Do you have children, Agent Hotchner?” Emily asked, looking at him.

“I have a little boy, not much older than Jonah.”

“You're married?”

“I'm divorced.”

“Lucky you,” she laughed but it was mirthless. “We go in thinking it will be everything we dreamed of and more. I let go of so many dreams so long ago but not that one. It was my downfall.”

“There are loopholes for spouses testifying for the prosecution.”

“I probably know more than you think, including the law. My parents are Ambassadors; I grew up in that world.”

“Then why don’t you just do it? They can protect you.”

“Who, Erin Strauss? She doesn’t give a damn about anything but winning a case, getting a commendation and likely a promotion. She surely doesn’t care that she is destroying people. She is no better than those she claims to fight against. Anyway,” Emily shrugged, plucking her clove. “I don’t know anything. Not that Strauss cares…she is willing to put my head on the guillotine. I am expendable. All I can figure is she doesn’t have enough to make it stick.”

“If you don’t know anything then why are you running?” Hotch asked.

“It’s complicated.”

“Try me.”

Derek walked back to the SUV. He carried a plastic bag in one hand and a coffee cup holder in the other. “C'mon, let’s go.”

“Oh thank God, coffee.” Emily grabbed a cup.

“What took you so long?” Hotch asked.

“I made sure everyone got a good look at me, and I asked for directions. Two different clerks; two different destinations.” He held out a baseball cap. “Put this on, Emily.”

She thought about arguing but decided against it.

“They’ll come looking…” Hotch said.

“They’ll have pictures; want to know where we’re headed.” Derek finished.

“Where are we headed?” Hotch asked.

“Montreal and Austin. Gimme the keys.”

“I'm driving.”

“Riding shotgun is killing me. I'm driving.”

“I don’t want to ride shotgun.” Hotch reasoned.

“Then get in the back,” Derek countered. “I'm driving.”

“Don’t be a smartass. I'm driving.”

“Hey, Starsky and Hotch!” Emily snapped her finger. “Let’s hope the bad guys don’t shoot me between the eyes while you are duking it out for supreme alpha male status. Give him the damn keys, Hotch.”

Rolling his eyes, Hotch handed over the keys. Derek grinned and got into the driver’s seat. Emily got in the back; Hotch on the passenger side.

“Where are we going anyway?” Emily asked as they got back on the road. “I now know its not Texas or Canada.”

“A safe house.” Hotch replied.

“Where?”

“Let’s just say nowhere.”

“I don’t like being in the dark.”

“Let’s call it even,” Morgan said. “We are in the dark too. It’s not fun, is it? I'm not particularly happy.”

“I could say so many things to you Agent Morgan but I won't bother.”

“I appreciate it.”

“You guys are definitely not FBI.”

“Not all agents are like Erin Strauss.” Hotch said.

“Shit, I should have known the Wicked Witch of the West was involved in this.” Morgan said, rolling his eyes.

“You’ve had the pleasure?” Emily asked.

“There is more pleasure with a kick in the nuts.” Morgan replied.

“Wow boys…I think we found the first thing we agree on.”

***

“We have company.” Morgan said, carefully glancing at his driver’s side mirror.

“Grey four door sedan,” Hotch replied. “Two passengers…possibly three.”

“Mmm hmm. It’s been with us about twenty minutes.”

“It could be the local pastor and his wife. I do not want to draw attention to ourselves by waving guns in their faces.”

“It’s a two-lane road with little traffic,” Derek pulled his Glock from his ankle though his eyes never left the road. “Surely, Reverend Camden and his wife would’ve gone around us by now.”

“There is that. What's the plan?”

“What's going on?” Emily asked.

“Just be prepared to hit the floor.” Morgan said. “We may have trouble.”

“Just say when.” She said.

“I'm going to suddenly slam on the brakes. If they go around me and give me the finger, they’re locals.”

“If not?” Hotch asked, pulling his gun from his shoulder holster.

“Then it’s yippee ky-yay motherfucka.”

“You seem too excited about this.” Emily said.

“If they want trouble, they just came across the right guys.”

“That’s the…shit!”

“What Hotch?” Morgan asked.

“I got a blue car coming up on my side, high rate of speed.”

“They're going to cut us off…”

“Box us in,” Hotch turned around. “Get down Emily, flat on your stomach, and don’t move.”

She was certainly not going to argue. Her heart was pounding so fast Emily was sure it was about to leap out of her chest.

“Hit the brakes on three. 1, 2…”

Morgan slammed on the brakes, thrown forward from the force. The blue car was still moving and seemed slightly confused. Hotch watched the grey car roll down its window. Morgan accelerated for a moment, making a hard U-turn as tires squealed and rubber burned. The gunshots were next.

“Stay down Emily!” Morgan exclaimed.

He didn’t have to tell her twice. They didn’t sound like semi-automatic weapons but still rapid fire. She hoped she didn’t have to die out here on some non-descript road. Emily didn’t even know what state she was in. They had been driving for hours.

Hotch threw the front seat down, crawling into the back. He put down the window, once again growling for Emily to stay down. He leaned out the window and started shooting at the grey car. There was a man hanging out of the passenger window.

“I think I took him out.” Hotch shouted.

“Don’t think, know.”

The car shook as the blue car slammed into the side of it.

“Shit!” Morgan exclaimed. He rolled his window down, shooting out while still holding the wheel.

“There is a turn off coming, Morgan! Turn off!”

“It could be a dead end.”

“I don’t care...we’ll take all of them if we have to.” Hotch ducked from flying bullets and debris. “Turn off Morgan!”

The SUV swerved as it turned onto the gravel road. Morgan pressed on the gas pedal while Hotch reached into a black bag in the trunk. He grabbed handfuls of something and threw them out the window. There was a small bit of guilt for all those locals who would lose tires to the tiny Chinese stars but he could not worry about that right now.

“Are they behind us?” Derek asked.

“No, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t coming. I'm sure I got the one hanging out of the sedan.”

“I blew at least one tire on the blue car. We have to get to the highway, Hotch. Isolated back roads are not the best idea right now. Doubtful they will start a shootout on I-80…this is not a Schwarzenegger film.”

“That’s a good idea. I'm thinking we need to call it a day soon. We can regroup and assess.”

“We’ll get on the interstate. The further west we go the more time we’ll gain.”

“True,” Hotch put his hand on Emily’s shoulder. “Are you alright?”

“I think so.” She mumbled.

“You can get up now; I think we shook them.”

“For the time being.” Morgan added.

Emily nodded, sitting back on the seat. Hotch studied her closely and she held up to the intense gaze of his hazel eyes.

“You want to tell us now how many people might be after you?” he asked.

“I don't know. My husband doesn’t like to lose, Agent Hotchner.”

“Is he willing to kill you?” Morgan asked.

“I think that little adventure just answered that question.” Emily replied.

“If you don’t know anything then why all of this?” Hotch asked.

“Sport. My husband loves hunting.”

Hotch didn’t like that answer. Firstly, it was a disgusting thought. Secondly, it wasn’t the whole truth. This mission was obviously dangerous and that didn’t bother him so much…lots of missions were. He just didn’t have any intent on putting his life on the line for someone who was just as corrupt as the people he was protecting her from. He needed to get to the bottom of Emily Prentiss.

***

“Oh captain, my captain, it’s been two days and you are not allowed to worry me like that again. Please tell me that you're alright. All I could imagine was your being held hostage and forced to spill government secrets.”

“You have an overactive imagination Garcia…and I don’t know any secrets.” Hotch said.

“Tell that to someone who doesn’t know you. Are you alright; is Morgan alright?”

“We’re fine, just a little covert right now. I need you to do something for me.”

“Anything.”

Hotch could hear the click of her computer keys and knew she was opening the vaults on anything he could ever dream of asking.

“Get me every bit of information you can on Jason Gideon and Emily Prentiss. I want every traffic ticket and grocery receipt, Garcia. Prentiss works for the State Department so she has a personnel file but I need more.”

“You got it. Anything else?”

“This is a little riskier…your hands will get dirty.” Hotch said.

“You know how I love to get dirty, boss.”

Hotch smirked. He studied the couple walking through the small parking lot toward the diner where his partner and the protectee were eating dinner. For right now, almost everyone was the enemy.

“Erin Strauss has a case…”

“The People versus Jason Gideon.”

“How did you…?”

“As if Norma Desmond every misses an opportunity for her close-up. She is hoping this case floats her right to the Deputy Director’s office.”

“Get me everything on that case; on and off the record. Watch your back.”

“You guys are way off the radar, aren’t you?” Garcia asked.

“Yeah.”

“I hate that,” her tone turned somber. “I don’t like it when I don’t hear from you.”

“It'll be soon, I promise. Rossi knows what's happening and he won't let you worry. Send all the information to my PDA.”

“You'll have everything within the hour.”

“I owe you one.” Hotch said.

“The only thanks I need is for you and my prince to get back here safely when this is all over.”

“You got it. Bye.”

Hotch turned off his BlackBerry and walked into the diner. He was immediately assaulted by 80s Rod Stewart, which made him cringe. Sliding into the booth next to Prentiss, he asked the waitress for a cup of coffee and a slice of pecan pie. Morgan was finishing a cheeseburger while Emily seemed to just stare at her meatloaf.

“Is Garcia alright?” Morgan asked.

“Yeah,” Hotch nodded. “We’ll have everything we need in an hour or so.”

“We need to ditch the SUV and get another ride.”

“I know. There is a motel a few miles up the road. We will stay the night; do a rent and dump in the morning. Derek, I've been thinking it might be beneficial to drive to Chicago and get the train.”

“We’ll do what we’ll have to.” Derek replied. “The faster we get to our destination, the faster we get the upper hand. I don’t like being out in the open.”

“I don’t like the idea of being confined to a moving locomotive.” Emily said. “Don’t I get a say?”

“As a matter of fact, you don’t.” Derek told her. “Priority number one is to deliver you safely. The how is not important, only that we do.”

“Deliver me where and to whom? Oh dear God, what have I gotten myself into?” she ran her hands over her face. “Who the hell are you guys? Who do you work for and where are we going? I swear if I don’t get some answers I am out of here. I would do better using my own wits than to put my life in the hands of two guys I don’t even know.”

“Do you think you would still be alive if we weren’t on the up and up?” Derek asked. “Those guys back there did not want to sip champagne and discuss the state of the economy. They had their orders and Hotch and I have ours. You are as safe as you can be with us.”

“I don’t feel safe. In fact, I can't stop shaking.”

“It'll pass. Actually, it’s typical that…”

“Look, I've done time in the Middle East; I've been shot at and worse. I am not a shrinking violet, Agent Hotchner. If you thought so, you were wrong.”

“I don’t know anything about you,” Hotch replied. “I don’t believe anything.”

“I need to use the ladies room,” Emily stood. “Excuse me please.”

Hotch stood and let her go. Derek looked after her while his partner cut into his pie.

“She could bolt.” He said.

“I'm not chasing her. If we are going to get anywhere then we need to get that chip off her shoulder.”

“Good luck with that.”

“Garcia is digging up everything on Prentiss and Jason Gideon. This has got to be about more than testimony.”

“Erin Strauss can be cruel and relentless.” Derek said. “Emily may think she has no choice but to run.”

“Strauss damn sure didn’t send the assassins. Anyway, if the marriage was strong Emily would be standing with her husband on TV wearing that Ivy League smile. I think he scares her much more than Strauss ever could.”

“Well he damn sure doesn’t scare me.”

“He wants her dead for something.”

Morgan nodded, flagging the waitress for another glass of iced tea. This was supposed to be a four or five day trip, a couple of back roads, and depositing Emily Prentiss at a safe house. After that he would be back in the real world chasing psychopaths. He didn’t like being half-blind as to what they were up against. He didn’t like doing favors for Rossi, who was doing favors for a guy Morgan didn’t even know. The FBI protecting someone from the FBI…yeah, that didn’t make much sense.

“You need to get her to open up.” He told Hotch.

“How do you figure I do that?”

“I don’t know. You can be good with the Dr. Phil type shit.”

“I think that’s an insult.”

“Its not.” Derek tried to contain his grin but he couldn’t. “People open up to you.”

“Begrudgingly. Rossi is the one who makes everyone feel comfortable. I don’t think we are going to get anything out of Prentiss but a strange combination of cooperation and contempt. She knows she needs us but she hates that she does.”

“See, you're better at it than you think.”

“Shut up.”

“She’s been gone for a while.” Derek looked back toward the bathroom.

“Give her time. She finally knows its true and its really sinking in.”

“What? That her husband will kill her?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t think so, Hotch. If he takes her out on some desolate gravel road then he will never get his son back. You have a son; put yourself in his place for a moment.”

Hotch was quiet for a while. The pie was delicious but the thoughts running through his mind didn’t even allow him time to savor it.

“He kills us, grabs her, takes her back to DC, and finds out where she is hiding Jonah. Then he kills her.”

“He tortures her…then he kills her.”

“Damn. Whatever we do we have to stay one step ahead of this son of a bitch.” Hotch muttered.

Derek nodded. Emily finally made her way back from the bathroom. Hotch stood.

“Can we go outside?” she asked. “I need some air and a cigarette.”

“Sure. Will you take care of the check, Morgan?”

“Yeah. You want some pie to go?”

Hotch smirked, his dimples coming out of their hiding place as he escorted Emily outside.

***

She stood under the large showerhead with water that was almost too hot to bear, and sobbed. It had been a while since she had a decent shower; Emily didn’t want to be in a position where she could not hear what was around her. She also was afraid to take her eyes off her son. He was gone now…they were separated for the first time in his life. Emily tried to calm the fear that she would never see him again, but the more she thought about it, the more she sobbed.

What had she been thinking? A life on the run was impossible. As long as there was breath in his body, Jason would never stop hunting for his son. She would spend the rest of her life looking over her shoulder.

There would never be peace or security. Emily would be forced to move to some tiny town in a country that wasn’t even on the map. Yet there was no guarantee he wouldn’t find her. Her family would always be in danger; Jason would only let her mother and father’s influence pacify him for so long.

His desperation would be dangerous to everyone in his wake. Jonah would be sheltered, paranoid, and a shell of the boy he could grow into being. She could not call herself a loving mother and resign him to that life. Not that a life under the thumb of his father with his mother dead and gone would be any better. There would be no middle ground with Jason…it was all or nothing. Even if Emily “won” surely she would lose.

Going back was not an option. The wheels were already turning, but she had to regain some control. Jonah was safe; she trusted her father with her little boy’s life. Now it was time to see this through. As clichéd as it sounded, the world was not big enough for the both of them to live peaceably in it.

Turning off the water and taking deep breaths, Emily got out of the shower. She dried herself and stood naked in front of the mirror. Wiping the steam off, Emily looked hard at herself. She grabbed the heavy scissors, a piece of her hair, and cut.

It didn’t matter anymore…she was not that same woman. She didn’t stop until her long raven hair was slightly past her chin. She also cut perfectly straight bangs. Emily Prentiss-Gideon, no Emily Prentiss. She wasn’t that other woman anymore and though she didn’t know exactly who this woman was, she would by the end of this journey.

Emily moisturized her skin and then threw on a pair of blue vinyl sweatpants, a tee shirt, and a pair of athletic socks. After dinner, Hotch and Morgan took her to Wal-Mart. It was not exactly her style but she was not a label whore like some of her friends. They wanted her to get clothes and provisions, nothing more than could fit in a small duffle bag. Two pairs of Wrangler jeans and two pairs of sweats would be good. She grabbed some graphic tees and a hoodie in case the weather got chilly at night.

She needed underwear, socks, and toiletries. When they weren’t looking, Emily picked up a hunting knife as well. Morgan told her she would need hiking boots and a pair of sturdy sneakers with good ankle support. She bought everything they told her without question. She added a bag of Oreos, energy bars, granola bars, and vitamins.

She knew it seemed silly being on the run to be thinking of A to zinc, but keeping alert and healthy was important now more than ever. At the register, Hotch tried to pay with a credit card but Emily declined. The government, and their money, was something she did not want to be a part of. Her own cash was good enough for her.

She finally made her way back into the bedroom of the motel room they rented. She was surprised to see Hotch sitting alone. His jacket and tie were off, shirt sleeves rolled up. He still wore his shoulder holster and his spiffy shoes.

“Where is Agent Morgan?” she asked.

“What happened to your hair?” Hotch asked. He had been concentrating on his PDA but her voice made him look up. She had been in the bathroom for a while. He was about to knock to make sure she was OK.

“I needed a change.” She sat Indian style on the bed, holding out the Oreos towards Hotch.

“No thank you. That’s definitely a change.”

“Where is Agent Morgan?” she repeated.

“He’s outside. We both decided it was a good idea if one of us watches the road. He will be back in about four hours and I will relieve him. I don’t know how much sleep the two of us will get but rest will be good.”

“Sleep is important.” Emily replied.

“Getting to our destination is as well. Coffee and Red Bull will be our friend.”

“I think you should tell me where we are going.”

Hotch looked at her. Maybe if he gave her a little, she would reciprocate. He could not pretend to know Emily Prentiss and honestly did not have the time to profile her. He would run on instinct; it had been good to him so far.

“Montana. There is a safe house in the middle of nowhere. That is really all I can tell you. Please don’t ask for anything more; not knowing is safer.”

“Are you really in the FBI?” Emily asked.

“Yes,” Hotch nodded. “Not all FBI agents are like Erin Strauss.”

She nodded but didn’t say anything else. She just ate her cookies, tried to think of anything other than the fact that she was marooned at some cheap motel outside of Indianapolis.

“Emily?”

“Hmm?”

“We need to have a conversation…its time.”

“About what?” she asked.

“Everything. I've been thinking about the many ways I could get you to open up to me but deception, in any form, is not my way. I would really like it if you just talked to me.”

Emily sipped her cold Pepsi. It didn’t exactly go with the Oreos but it would do. If she closed her eyes, she could almost believe she was back at home. That place didn’t exist anymore…perhaps it never really had.

“I met Jason Gideon in the summer of 2000. He attended a garden party thrown by some mutual friends of ours. I was intrigued from the very beginning. Jason was everything I wanted. He was smart, attractive, soft-spoken, settled, and wasn’t of my world.

“He could survive in it but I knew we would not have a political relationship. After the way I lived for so many years that was very enticing. He was not over the top, didn’t flaunt his money or all the important people that he knew. He was subtle in every detail of his seduction.

“We had been dating for about three months when I got assigned to Eastern Europe to do some work there. I was going to be gone a year and living in four different countries. I told Jason I didn’t expect him to wait…I mean we hadn’t even slept together yet. He seemed to agree but asked if it was alright if he called to check on me while I was far away. He spent the entire year I was gone wooing me. Do you know what its like to not even be able to touch someone but to experience their passion for you?

“The last couple of months were practically unbearable; I just wanted to get home to him. I returned in the fall of 2001. He proposed, I eagerly accepted, and we were married the following March. It was perfect; Jason made me so happy. We wanted to start a family immediately but it was more difficult than either of us imagined.

“We had some tough times but Jason was so supportive and wonderful. When I told him I was pregnant with Jonah he was overjoyed. I finally had everything I ever wanted. I had a wonderful husband, a baby on the way, a job I loved, and a white picket fence. I should have known it was an illusion…I shouldn’t have let my guard down.

“Everything changed after Jonah was born. It was subtle, everything is with Jason. He was upset that I was returning to work so soon. He didn’t like that I worked long hours and could not be by his side for many events because our schedules conflicted.

“We were bickering more; his temper would sometimes flare. He never lost control and I berated myself for wishing he was more understanding. I don’t like compromise, who does, and I was angry at myself for putting work ahead of my family. So I relented on a lot of things.

“I thought maybe I was the one who was changing him, even if that doesn’t make sense. For the longest time in my life it felt as if everything I touched turned to garbage. In hindsight all of it was a bad idea. He had control and if there is one thing Jason Gideon never gives up its control.

“He demanded attention, he demanded sex, and that I stay beautiful all the time…I could hardly keep up. Then there were these moments when he was my Jason again. It was almost like a form of Stockholm Syndrome; I was a hostage in my own marriage. I thought of leaving and staying and countless other things I can hardly bear to think about.”

“What happened?” Hotch asked.

“Six months ago I found out I was pregnant. I had been sneaking birth control for over a year; I had no idea how it happened. I decided that I had to terminate the pregnancy. That hurt because being a mother has always been what I wanted. Things were too rocky at home, Jason was very tense and I did not want to bring a baby into that. State offered me a nine month position in Rome at the American Embassy there. I really wanted it and with Jason able to work anywhere I thought maybe we could get away and start over again.

“I was not a quitter. I was not giving up on my marriage. I watched my parents do that and I knew I couldn’t put Jonah through that kind of pain and doubt. I still loved Jason; I still loved him so much.”

Emily paused, taking a deep breath. She was not going to cry anymore. She was through with that weakness. Still, she could not look into Hotch’s eyes either. She did not know which she would despise more seeing there, contempt or pity.

“I brought the offer to him one evening and I saw his face darken. He accused me of ridiculous things, including plotting to destroy our marriage. I was trying to save it; I told him this move would be good for us. We were fighting, yelling, and I called him an ungrateful bastard.

“He backslapped me so hard. I was stunned…Jason had never put his hands on me before. It took a few minutes for me to snap back. I went after him; he slapped me again and again.

“Finally he just shoved me. I flew backwards and went over a chair. He was coming toward me; I thought he was going to kill me. Jason freaked when he saw the blood coming out of my mouth. I heard him calling my name but I knew I was blacking out. I miscarried and that’s when I knew. I knew there was a man who lived beneath the surface of my husband who was quite frightening.

“After the miscarriage Jason was so distraught and apologetic…he was almost his old self again. Meanwhile, I was planning to run. I was switching accounts around and working things out. I knew it would not be easy but I also knew he would never accept a divorce and being a part-time father to Jonah. After that night I knew he was capable of killing me and I was petrified. A week before I was going to leave, Erin Strauss showed up at my office.”

“What did she tell you?” Hotch still found himself reeling from how calm, detached really, Emily was as she described how her husband brutalized her. It was almost as if it had happened to someone else. Unfortunately, he had seen his share of abused women in his time, both mentally and physically. There was no archetype…anyone could fall victim to it.

“She sat down across from my desk, crossed her leg, and told me she was going to take down my husband. She then said that if I didn’t want to end up in federal prison beside him then I would cooperate. I had no idea what she was talking about. Jason is in international finance. I am not stupid Agent Hotchner; things that are legal in a country like Switzerland might get you some serious time in the United States. But some of what she told me…I didn’t know him at all did I?”

“So you ran?”

“I didn’t think I had any other choice. After everything else I had been through, if Jason suspected that I had been approached by the FBI…I was afraid for my life. I had to protect myself and my son.”

“Why didn’t you just get on a plane and get out of the country?” Hotch asked.

“I didn’t think leaving from Reagan or Dulles was the best idea. It would be too easy to trace. The plan was to drive to Allentown, Pennsylvania and get an international flight out. Within six hours of my disappearance Jason had frozen all of my assets. All I had was what was in my pocket, about $2500.”

“That could have gotten you out of the country.”

“Then what? I would have been on a foreign shore with no money…I didn’t even have credit cards. I didn’t want to involve my parents or anyone I loved. I knew they were already in enough danger. Now everyone I care for is a target. He will not stop until he has his son back, and Erin Strauss won't stop until she makes her bullshit federal case. She doesn’t give a damn who she destroys.”

“What about you, Emily? When will you stop running? How will you be safe?”

“If he goes to jail, I will be safe then. I don’t care about myself; I cannot let him have my son.”

Hotch didn’t know what else to say. He knew the Ambassador and his wife had taken Jonah overseas. Jason probably didn’t figure on that and was only chasing after his wife. She may not have cared about herself but he cared. Emily Prentiss had been through enough and she needed peace. That was why he and Morgan had been called in. Gideon would not stop and Strauss surely did not have the juice to bring him down if the files Garcia sent were any indication.

His high-priced lawyer could probably get the over-hyped charges dismissed without the financier stepping foot in a courtroom. Who authorized this, the Agent did not know but it would surely bring more embarrassment and bad press to the FBI. No one gave a damn what happened to his wife.

“You should probably get some sleep.” Hotch said. He pulled a bottle of eye drops from his pants pocket and hydrated his contact lenses.

“Are you going to sleep?” she asked.

“I will rest, that will get me through. Don’t worry, you're safe in here. No one is getting past Morgan and if they did, which they won't, they would not get past me.”

“You two really are the best, huh?” she got under the quilt. Telling that story left Emily exhausted.

“We are.” Hotch nodded.

“How long have you two been together?”

He smirked; it made them sound like an old married couple. Hell, sometimes they really were.

“Almost a decade. Let’s just say we can handle what no one else can or will. Go to sleep Emily…I cannot promise another quiet night.”

Emily nodded, actually allowing herself to drift off. She would be alright if there was never another night like this.

***

“Do you have a plan?” Emily asked, sipping her coffee.

“We never work without one.” Hotch replied.

“Are you going to share it with me?”

“That was not my intent.”

“Hotch, I do not want to be in the dark where my life is concerned. I thought we all agreed to work together…no two against one.”

“Morgan and I know what we’re doing. You have to understand that you cannot be privy to everything. That is not two against one; it’s for your safety. Control is not yours Emily, at least not for the time being. We are doing this to save your life.”

She leaned back in the booth, crossed her arms, and cut her eyes at him. Agent Hotchner was unmoved. They were having breakfast in the same diner where they had dinner the night before. It was the first morning in too long to recall that Emily had an appetite.

She knew her hearty meal of a cheese omelet, home fries, and sausage links surprised her companion. No, he wasn’t that…her captor perhaps? No, not that either. When you were neither friend nor foe, what were you?

“Where is Agent Morgan?” she asked.

“He went to rent a new car for the ride to Chicago.”

“You said something about a train in Chicago. Where is it taking us?”

“I know this might be difficult but you have got to stop asking so many questions.” Hotch put his elbows on the table and leaned toward her. “You are never going to trust me and I completely understand that Emily. Even still, your life is my number one priority right now. Its Morgan’s as well. Just let us do our job. Your father knows we are the best…trust him.”

Emily didn’t like it but she nodded. She excused herself to the ladies room and when she returned, wanted a cigarette. Hotch took the bill up front and paid for the meal. They went outside, taking shelter from the spring rain under the awning. Emily lit a clove, inhaled, and exhaled slowly.

“Agent Hotchner?”

“Hmm?”

He stood against the wall, arms crossed with a brooding countenance. Emily thought if he ever smiled he would be a handsome man. He was still dressed like a movie FBI Agent; black suit, white dress shirt and royal blue tie. His shoes were as shiny as a military officer’s. She was usually good at reading people, excellent really, but this man…she had no clue. Something said to keep looking and something else said give it up. Emily Prentiss was no quitter.

“I hope you keep the things I told you last night in confidence.” She said.

“It doesn’t work that way. Anything you tell me that is pertinent to the case has to be shared with Agent Morgan. There is no compromise on that.”

“Apparently there is no compromise on anything.”

“We don't keep secrets from one another.” Hotch replied.

“Why are you treating me like I am a suspect?” Emily asked. “I didn’t have to tell you anything but I did.”

“I know, and I appreciate that. The more we know, the better we help you. There are many different means to finding out what we need to know. A group of people are working on it right now in fact. I don’t mean to treat you like a suspect though. It is a hazard of the job, I guess.

“I will try to do better from now on. You just have to understand that Agent Morgan is my partner and he has been for a long time. When we finish this assignment there will be another and another after that. Without trust our relationship will crumble. I don’t intend to ever let that happen. It took us too long to get to this place.”

“I understand that.” Emily said.

Though he wouldn’t say, Hotch didn’t care if she did or not. Obviously Emily was scared and running for a reason. That didn't mean Hotch believed everything she told him. In this job almost everything was considered a lie until confirmed by Penelope Garcia or detective work. The computer genius was already combing medical records and running a fine-toothed comb through the marriage of Emily Prentiss and Jason Gideon.

Someone once said that there were two sides to every story. FBI Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner knew there were at least ten. And those were the short and simple ones. There was nothing short and simple about this one at all. A Cadillac Catera pulled up in front of them. Hotch’s hand moved behind him to his Glock but Derek Morgan got out of the car and grinned.

“I thought you might like a luxury car.” He said to Emily.

“I could care less as long as we get out of here.”

He wanted to say something smart but decided against it. He was trying to give Emily the benefit of the doubt. Yesterday would have been tough on anyone. To go from a diplomatic interpreter to running for your life was pretty drastic. Derek wouldn’t be friendly either if the roles were reversed. He watched Hotch hold the back door for her before he climbed into the passenger side.

“I am not listening to AC/DC the whole way to Chicago.” The senior Agent said, strapping himself in. “Metallica either.”

“OK, dad, but I’ll be damned if I listen to The Carpenters.”

“I do not like The Carpenters.” Hotch said through clenched teeth, cutting his eyes at Morgan.

“Uh huh. Don’t you remember you told me you loved me baby?” he put his hand on Hotch’s shoulder. “You said you'd be coming back this way again baby.”

“Shut up.”

Emily burst into laughter and the FBI agents both turned toward the backseat. She just laughed, holding her stomach as tears creased in her eyes. It was a graceless laugh, surely her real one, and there was something very lovely about it. It was always lovely when a woman just let go and laughed.

“Damn, that’s it. Let it out, Prentiss.” Derek said grinning.

When the giggle fit subsided, she pulled her iPod Nano from her backpack.

“How about a little compromise, guys? It’s got something for everyone.”

Hotch took it from her hands and started flipping through the song list. Tom Petty, Anita Baker, David Bowie, Fleetwood Mac, Journey, The Smiths…it would be better than bickering with Morgan all the way to Chicago.

“It’s a deal.”

Morgan hooked it up before pulling out of the parking lot of Faye’s Diner. It would be about a four hour trip; a few smaller roads before hitting I-65. There would hopefully be no OK Corral type activity today. The faster they got her deposited to the safe house and got back to DC, the better. He knew something else was coming though.

Never afraid to put his life on the line for the job or to protect the innocent, Derek still felt a rock in the pit of his stomach. This was not going to end well. He would do everything in his power to keep them all alive but sometimes the best wasn’t enough. Brushing away bad thoughts, he let the voice of Patti Scialfa relax him as he focused on the road. There was still a long way to go.

***

Hotch was outside a Dairy Queen in Thorntown, Indiana. The rain had stopped for now but it was a humid day for early May. He leaned on the Cadillac, eyes scanning the townspeople. Some stopped for gas, fast food, fuel, or to use the facilities. There also seemed to be a decent amount that had stopped to chat and gossip. Dairy Queen seemed to be the place to be in this neck of the woods. The BlackBerry on his hip buzzed and he answered without looking at it.

“Hotchner.”

“Hey, it’s JJ. Are you guys alright?”

“Yeah. I would tell you where we’re going but…”

“I understand. We have a problem.”

“I'm listening.” Hotch squinted behind his shades as he watched Morgan and Prentiss walk back toward the car. They would get back on the road as soon as Emily finished filling her body with that poison. A woman like her, not that Hotch could pretend to know anything about her, didn’t need a dirty habit like that.

“The Columbians may be involved.”

“Involved in what?” Hotch took the chocolate shake Morgan handed him.

“The FBI has a 24 hour tail on Jason Gideon. Unfortunately we aren’t able to get much beyond visual contact and a tap on his house phone. He certainly doesn’t use it very much, and hardly at all for business. Yesterday afternoon he had lunch at DC Coast with Cesar Silvano.”

“What happened?” Hotch walked away from the car. He heard Morgan tell Emily to get in.

“Well we don’t have audio so we don’t know what happened. All we can say is the two men are very chummy. We know that Gideon handles most of the money for the Silvano Foundation, the so-called legitimate business Cesar runs. We also know that Silvano has many an unscrupulous business partner though the Feds can never get enough on him to make it stick. If Gideon asked for a favor surely Silvano would get it done.”

“The Columbians are coming after us?”

“We can only assume. I definitely wasn’t going to keep you in the dark about this development.” JJ replied. “The Columbians are not like the Italians, Hotch; they will kill everyone in their wake to get the target.”

“I know.”

“You two have to be careful.”

“We already shook off some guys yesterday.” Hotch said. “You be careful too. Strauss is on the warpath and doesn’t trust a soul. If she thinks someone is trying to infringe on her case she’ll get nasty. If she gets wind we’re harboring her “witness”…”

“It’s not going to happen. Ambassador Prentiss has had Emily and Jonah declared missing at her behest.”

“Why would he…?”

“Ambassador _Elizabeth_ Prentiss.” JJ clarified. “Strauss is looking to add a murder indictment to the list of trumped up charges she’s already collected. If she can convince a judge that Jason Gideon harmed his wife to keep her from testifying, its federal murder. The dragon lady is beside herself with excitement. I've seen her smile at least four times in the past couple of days.”

“No doubt.” Hotch smirked. “Watch your back JJ, and do what you can to keep us informed on this missing person thing. The boy as well?”

“Yeah. Its all over the news here…the daughter of Ambassadors and the wife of one of the top financiers in the world is gone without a trace. It could go international in the next few seconds. Welcome to the internet age.”

“That puts the whole operation in jeopardy.”

“That’s why I called. We better clear the line; you never know…”

“Right. Be careful.”

“You too, and Morgan.”

“Yeah. See you soon.”

Hotch turned his phone off and walked back to the car. A few minutes later they were on US-52 again, heading for Lafayette and the merge onto I-65.

“Your mother has had you and Jonah declared missing at the behest of Special Agent Erin Strauss.” He said looking into the rearview mirror.

“Shit,” Morgan grumbled. “We’re kidnappers now.”

“Why would she do that?” Emily asked. “What is Erin Strauss trying to do to me?”

“I assume that your mother and father don’t communicate much.” Hotch said.

“Under duress.” She crossed her arms. “I am so sorry about this. You didn’t sign on to be part of this insanity.”

“Actually, that’s exactly what we did.” Morgan replied. “You don’t have to apologize. We have to get you to the safe house as fast as possible. There will not be much rest along the way for any of us. With the missing person report already in the press we can't ask your mother to retract it…it would be too suspicious. Strauss is probably planning to add conspiracy to commit murder to her indictment.”

“That’s what JJ thinks.” Hotch said. “It’s the charge most likely to hold water if Gideon can talk his way out of the rest. Emily, do you know Cesar Silvano?”

Morgan glanced at his partner. Some good news would be nice but it would never start with the name Cesar Silvano.

“I've met him a few times but we are not friends. He is one of Jason’s clients. We've sipped overpriced wine and discussed politics and Derek Walcott. That’s all I know about him. Why?”

“I'm just asking.”

“No, you don’t ask without a reason. You promised not to keep me in the dark, Hotch.” Emily said.

“There is a possibility that your husband is enlisting Silvano’s help in bringing you and your son home.”

“So there is something to the rumors that he’s a dangerous man?” Emily asked. “Jason always said that people played on ethnic fears to say bad things about Cesar. Did you know he has a Masters degree from Princeton?”

“He is a well-dressed, well-educated monster.” Morgan said. “You won't be able to wipe up the blood from your slashed throat with his little piece of paper from Princeton.”

Emily got very quiet, sipping the milkshake Morgan bought for her. She hated herself for the tears brimming in her eyes that spilled over. There was no point in trying to hide them so she didn’t. She was never going to see her baby again…they were going to kill her. Dammit, Emily should have just stayed with Jason. Anything would have been more bearable than this.

Strauss couldn’t have anything concrete on him or she never would have showed up at her office. Not that that visit alone sent Emily packing. It all felt like a horrible mistake. But the way Jason attacked her was not a mistake. He was coming undone and she did not want to be around when the last bandage of his façade unraveled. Perhaps she wouldn’t be. A glimpse of the monster within might be the last thing she saw before death took its everlasting grip on her.

***

“This might not be the best time to mention that this is one of my fears.” Emily said.

“What's that?” Morgan asked.

“Confinement. Did we have to get a sleeper car? I really hate sleeper cars.”

“Look out the window,” Hotch replied. “It might be helpful.”

“Doubtful.”

“Give it a try. We’re going to leave you alone for a little while but will be right outside.”

Emily bit down on a cheeky response and just nodded. She watched as they left the room, knowing Hotch was going to tell Morgan everything she told him last night. She wished he wouldn’t but knew there was nothing she could do about it. Maybe it would help. Emily didn’t know how but if they wanted to know so bad surely there had to be a reason. She sat in the almost comfortable seat across from the bunk bed, leaned her head on the window and pulled a picture from her backpack.

It was she and Jason, a year old Jonah in his arms. They were so happy; their frozen smiles mocking her after all she had been through. She did not want to sit on a train for 14 hours, from Chicago to Cheyenne, and think of the many ugly turns her life had taken. While Emily Prentiss was never one to feel sorry for herself longer than a few minutes, she wasn’t sure if she would recover from this. The most insane part was that she missed and still loved her husband. It wasn’t logical…absolutely none of it made sense. That was probably something she would have to get used to.

“What are we up against?” Morgan asked.

He and Hotch were leaning against the wall in the narrow walkway. They faced each other but also looked over the other’s shoulder. Confinement wasn’t their favorite idea but it was easier to jump from a train than a plane if it had to come to that. It was 14 hours from Chicago to Cheyenne, with stops in Peoria, Sioux City, and Lincoln before getting to Wyoming at about 3:30 in the morning. Agent John Blackwolf, an old acquaintance of the pair would have a car waiting for them at the station for the ten hour ride to Helena.

“I don't know.” Hotch said.

“I don’t like that answer.”

“Me neither but this case is getting stranger by the moment. Not the hour but the moment.”

“I am not sure I trust Prentiss at all.” Morgan said.

“Her running has nothing to do with the case Strauss is putting together. That just happened to coincide with her plan to run, which was already in motion.”

“She talked to you?”

“Yeah.” Hotch nodded. “A little.”

Hotch told him the story Emily told him last night. Morgan listened intently and then sighed.

“This is nothing more than a domestic case?” he asked.

“Well Jason Gideon surely knows his wife doesn’t know much about his business.”

“She is smart enough to put 2 and 2 together though.”

“I don’t know the man,” Hotch said. “But I think Strauss’ case is full of holes. It’s why she had Ambassador Prentiss declare Emily and Jonah missing.”

“Two murders, even without bodies, is a strong accusation.” Morgan replied. “It also lends to her other case because what other reason would he have to “kill” his wife than she knew too much?”

“When really it’s as simple as a man who wants control of everything around him. He could have killed her that night. Her miscarriage saved her life.”

“Does she know what she’s getting into with life on the run?” Morgan asked.

“It won't be life, just a little while. Her father is a smart man. He will keep her and the little boy safe.”

“He’ll never stop until he has them back.”

“Unless he’s rotting in prison for a murder that won't be taking place if we have anything to say about it.” Hotch said.

“Jerk or not, I'm not entirely comfortable with that scenario. I guess we just need to do what we’re here to do and stay out of the rest.”

“Yeah.”

“You think someone is on the train?” Morgan asked.

“I couldn’t make a tail but who knows. We’ll work as if there is and…” Hotch was interrupted by his BlackBerry and immediately answered it. “Haley, is everything alright?”

Morgan didn’t want to stick around for that phone call. He went back into their coach, where Emily quickly stuffed something in her backpack. She came out with an energy bar.

“Where’s Hotch?” she asked.

“A phone call came in that he had to take.” Morgan sat across from her in a smaller seat. He studied her without appearing to do so at all.

“You don’t like me, do you Agent Morgan?”

“I don’t know you and no offense but if this all goes according to plan I won't have the time to get to.”

“Yeah.”

They were both quiet for a while; Emily actually closed her eyes.

“Are you married, Agent Morgan?”

“My mother wishes I was.”

“Oh God, I can understand that.” She smirked.

“The job I do…it wouldn’t be easy on a woman. I'm on the road a lot and my life is sometimes in danger. I wouldn’t ask someone to take it on. Words could never describe how hard it would be.”

“You and Hotch seem close.” she said.

“He is the longest relationship of my life.” Morgan said. “We've had our share of ups and downs but it is built on a solid foundation of trust and hard work. Damn, we do sound like a married couple.”

“There is nothing wrong with that. It must be a good feeling to know that someone has your back no matter what. Especially when you have no idea what's lurking around the next corner.”

“We’re not going to let anyone hurt you.” Morgan replied. “It would be silly to tell you not to be afraid but…”

“I am scared, but not of all of this. It’s what's going to happen after. I've never run from anything in my life. There was so much that should have broken me but it didn’t. Yet here I am running. I've failed myself and I know I've failed my son.”

“So you don’t think your husband is trying to kill you?”

“The one thing I know is that I don’t know Jason Gideon. That doesn’t mean I don’t wish I could change the way I did things. I let fear rule me instead of logic…that’s unlike me.”

“Erin Strauss probably didn’t help.” Morgan said.

“Oh fuck her,” Emily sighed. “I just want to be there when she gets what she deserves for the lives that she has fractured.”

“I’ll make sure you are.”

Emily nodded, smiling. Morgan returned it.

“You promise?” she asked.

“Consider it done.”

Hotch came back into the coach car. He looked tired and frustrated. Morgan didn’t say a word but the look on Hotch’s face concerned Emily.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

“Fine.”

“You don’t look…”

“I'm fine.” He cut her off. “This is going to be a long train ride without stops for smoke breaks or snacks. We should all buckle down for the evening.”

Emily didn’t say anything else to him; curling up in her seat and watching the world go by at breakneck speed. God, if she could turn back the hands of time, where would she be?

***

Emily looked at her watch when she woke from her nap. It was one a.m., another two and a half hours until they got to Wyoming. She turned on the bed, more uncomfortable than the seats in the room, and looked at Hotch and Morgan. They were both asleep. Morgan’s head was back, arms crossed over his chest. Hotch was the same except his feet were up on the chair across from him. The room was dimly lit; all Emily could hear was the sound of train tracks ahead and behind them.

Her movements were slow as she sat up in the bed; didn’t want to wake them. Finally on her feet, Emily grabbed her backpack and slid it through her arms. She walked to the door and turned the knob slowly. A small noise made her jump and turn. Hotch and Morgan hadn’t moved. It probably wasn’t the best idea for two FBI agents to sleep as soundly as they were but Emily knew they had to be exhausted. The lock gave, the door opened, and she slipped out without making a sound.

“She’s gone.” Hotch muttered.

“She’s good,” Morgan replied, one eye opening. “She must have snuck out a lot as a teenager. I almost want to compliment her cat-like skills.”

“Just go and get her…it’s your turn.”

“How? You’ve never…”

“I made her open up. You go and get her.”

“Fine.”

Morgan got up and looked out the door. She damn sure wasn’t running; she wasn’t even halfway down the long hall. When she looked behind her, he slipped back inside.

“She isn’t running.” He said. “I have no damn idea what she is doing.”

“Keep an eye on her.” Hotch said.

“Yeah.”

He left the room and watched her walk along. She wasn’t in a hurry; maybe she just wanted a smoke. Damn addiction was going to be the death of all three of them. Smoking wasn’t allowed on trains anymore but there had to be somewhere for them to go. Morgan kept his distance as he followed her through two train cars. She turned around a few times and he didn’t know how he managed it in such an enclosed space, but he ducked away.

The caboose, did they even still call it that, that would be a good place to get some air. Suddenly someone else was in his field of vision and closing in on Emily. Shit! There was no time to alert Hotch; he was on his own with this one. Morgan had no idea how many there were. He watched Emily stiffen as the large man took hold of her.

“Scream and you die.” He whispered in her ear, a knife pressed in her side. “Just keep walking.”

“Who are you?”

“Shut up. You don’t get to ask questions.”

“Did my husband send you?”

“Shut up.” He poked the knife in her side and Emily whimpered. “We can do this the hard way or the easy way. I'm sure you would prefer the easy way. I don’t really give a damn.”

“You would never kill me on a train full of people. It’s too risky.”

“Aren't you a smart one?” he pulled her into the darkness between cars and held the knife to her throat. It was long and it was sharp. “Smart asses die first. You want the poor soul who has to identify your body seeing it split from chin to sternum?”

Emily shivered as he and the knife pressed her into the wall. His breath smelled, he was sweaty, and she was trapped.

“If you're nice to me, then I’ll be nice to you. If you're not…”

“If you fucking touch me, my husband will give you a new definition for the word pain.” Emily spat.

“Shut up.” He backslapped her before grabbing her throat. “Who the hell knows why he would want a back-talking shrew like you back. Maybe I can make it so you never talk lip again.”

Emily fought the hand around her throat. He was strong and she was starting to fade. Morgan came out of nowhere, tackling the man around the waist as a football player would. He made an ‘oof’ sound and they started tussling.

“Run Emily!” he exclaimed.

She tried but couldn’t, pinned in the tiny space by the two of them. Morgan was trying to get the knife away from the guy while at the same time not to be stabbed to death. They crashed into Emily and the wall; she felt the searing pain. Her hand automatically went up to her shoulder. It came back with blood.

“Oh God, oh dear God. Morgan…”

“Run Emily!”

She slithered along the short wall, falling into the open train car. She turned, stumbled, and broke out into a run. Emily had no idea how badly she was bleeding. All she knew was that she had to get back to Hotch. Saying a prayer that Morgan was not dying a painful, atrocious death, Emily burst back into the sleeper car.

“Hotch!”

“You're bleeding.”

“Help me. They…Morgan…” Emily started fading.

Hotch grabbed her before she hit the floor, pulling her over to the seat. He took the backpack off, leaning her against the arm and window. Reaching for his own bag, Hotch opened it and pulled out the first aid kit. First he gave her smelling salt, which brought her back.

“Hotch, oh my God,” she grabbed his shirt, getting her blood on it. “They're going to kill Morgan.”

“Calm down, just calm down. You're bleeding and I need to take a look at it. If you're hysterical then the bleeding won't stop.”

“But Morgan…”

“I know but you need to calm down. I have to cut you out of this shirt…the wound looks bad. Try to relax.”

She did her best as Hotch cut down the middle of her tee shirt with scissors. He spread it open to reveal a nearly transparent purple bra. She was a beautiful woman but ogling her body was the last thing on his mind. The slash was deep; went right through the bra strap.

He checked it with tentative fingers and Emily bit her lip. She never made a sound. As Hotch stopped the bleeding and cleaned the wound with alcohol, Morgan came back into the sleeper car. That’s when Emily came back to life.

“Morgan, are you alright?” she asked.

“I'm fine.” He turned to Hotch. “Is she going to make it? Will that need stitches?”

“Tough to say.” He finished cleaning it. “It’s a nasty gash but if we take care of it, it should heal on its own.”

“Blackwolf can do stitches.” Morgan said. “Better safe than sorry.”

“Are you alright?” he turned away from Emily for a matter of seconds but Morgan saw the concern in his hazel eyes.

“He’s out cold and he is not Columbian. I stashed him in the last car with a blanket over him. We should be on the road before they discover him.”

“I'm sorry I left. I wasn’t running I swear; I just needed space to think. I told you confinement freaks me out.” She gritted her teeth as Hotch put the gauze and medical tape over the wound.

“The bleeding should slow or stop altogether.” He said. “You're right Morgan, we’ll get Blackwolf to do the stitches.” He looked at Emily. “He’s no Noah Wyle; it'll be effective but might hurt like hell.”

“I can handle it.”

Patched up, she now felt naked. There was no use in trying to cover up, they had seen all a man wanted to see. To their credit, neither man seemed overly impressed with her breasts. Emily stood, faltering a bit but holding her own.

“Could I…I’d like to put a shirt on.”

“Hurry,” Morgan said. “We have to get this blood off of us too.”

She nodded and they left her alone. The hallway was dim, empty. It didn’t seem like Morgan had been in the fight of his life just a few minutes before.

“Are you alright?” Hotch asked, his hand gently falling on Morgan’s shoulder.

“Well I do believe the little woman cares.”

“I don’t care,” Hotch smirked, falling right in with the banter of Nick and Nora Charles. “I'm just used to you, that’s all.”

Morgan grinned.

“He got some licks in, nothing I couldn’t handle. He wasn’t shit without the knife and I had an advantage on him…he wasn’t used to confined spaces. I could’ve snapped his neck but the knockout pinch will keep him down for a couple of hours.”

“Who was he?” Hotch asked.

“Hell if I know; he didn’t have any ID on him. All he had was two knives. I know he was sent by Gideon but he wasn’t supposed to hurt her.”

“How do you know?”

“I heard them talking. He might have raped and killed her anyway. She was talking too much and he clearly did not have a calm temper. Good help is definitely hard to find these days.”

“I'm glad you got him before he could hurt her.”

“Yeah,” Morgan crossed his arms, grimacing slightly. “If I even sound like I'm going to bitch about a case in the future, remind me of the train to Cheyenne.”

“With pleasure.”

“It better not be too much pleasure.”

Hotch smiled, patting Morgan’s shoulder. He knocked on the door and Emily told them it was fine to come back in. They all wanted to get off this train as soon as possible though who knew what was waiting out there for them.

***

 _Well she was an American Girl  
Raised on promises  
She couldn’t help thinkin’  
That there was a little more life somewhere else  
After all it was a great big world  
With lots of places to run to  
And if she had to die tryin’  
She had one little promise she was going to keep  
Oh yeah, all right  
Take it easy baby, make it last (make it last all night)  
She was an American Girl_

Emily slowly came out of the haze; they were still moving. She could have sworn they got off the train. She remembered getting off the train, feeling woozy and leaning on Morgan. It was daylight now so they couldn’t be on the train. She sat up, grimacing in pain. Derek looked in the rearview mirror.

“She’s awake.” He said.

“What happened to me?” Emily asked.

“You passed out while John was stitching you up.” Hotch replied. “Are you in any pain?”

“A little. It’s more discomfort than anything. I’m very uncomfortable right now.”

“We can stop for a little while. It might be good for you to stretch your legs, get some food, and have a smoke.” Derek said.

“Are you serious? Am I dying?”

“Don’t even joke about something like that.” Hotch replied sternly as Derek smirked.

“I think after your harrowing experience you at least deserve one of those silly cloves.”

“Thanks…Derek.”

“You're welcome.”

Emily went to look at her watch but her wrist was bare. She sighed. Money didn’t mean everything but some lucky bastard probably found a $4500 Cartier watch on the train this morning.

“I lost my watch. What time is it?”

“Seven thirty.” Hotch said.

“Oh my God, I've been out of it for four hours!”

“You're exhausted.” Morgan said in a matter of fact tone.

“I'm hungry.” Emily tried to stretch and yelped in pain. “Fuck!”

“Be gentle with that shoulder.” Hotch said.

“Obviously. For how long?”

“Probably just a few days. You're going to be fine but you need to rest when we get to Montana.”

Emily didn’t say anything for a while. She wanted to but wasn’t really sure what. It was hard to believe it had only been two days since she met them in a dank New Jersey motel. Practically a lifetime sped by in 48 hours. There were still far more questions than answers and she hated that.

“What happens after that?” she asked. “How long will I have to be in this safe house? I miss my son and want to get on with whatever is left of my life. I want to call my father and make sure they're alright.”

“We’ll regroup when we get there.” Derek replied. “With your face on a milk carton now it might be best to lay low for a week or two. We also have to get all the paperwork so you can get out of the country.”

“A week or two! I thought you said you had a plan.”

“We do, so just relax.” Hotch said. “Others have gotten involved and we’ve had to think on our feet but it’s not something we aren’t used to. Let’s just get something to eat and make it safely to Montana. That’s what we need to focus on…there is no need to get ahead of ourselves. We survived the train but that doesn’t mean nothing else is coming at us.”

Emily nodded. She leaned back in the seat and tried to relax. Her shoulder was throbbing but she wouldn’t take the Motrin in her backpack until there was food in her stomach. She wondered how many hours there were between Cheyenne and Montana. Emily could not let herself believe she was safe yet. Two attempts on her life in two days; it didn’t make sense. She kept thinking it was almost time to wake up from the nightmare.

She would wake in her own comfortable bed, in her husband’s arms. Her life would be peaceful and unchanged. No, Emily needed to keep her feet on the ground…it would never be that way again. Jason had clearly lost his mind. He sent people to kill her and get their son back. Her life meant nothing to him. At least this safe house would provide Emily with a sliver of security.

There would be warm baths, hot meals, and maybe even a night or two of comfortable sleep. She knew that, as much as she wanted to, she couldn’t rush leaving the country. Emily Prentiss was a missing person now and had to be even more under the radar. Still, what she wanted more than anything was her son back in her arms. Then she could be whole again…then she could leave this nightmare behind her.

***

It was almost five when Derek turned onto the mile long dirt path that would take them to where they wanted to go. Emily looked all around her, nothing but rocks and trees. Part of her felt secure but also thought that no one would hear her scream out there. There were no other houses around, no people, no animals…there didn’t even seem to be wind.

Would they get cell phone service out here? Would they have a chance to call for help if ambushed? Oh my God, since when did she start thinking about things like ambushes? Derek practically pulled up to the front steps, cutting the ignition. He looked up at the place.

“It’s nice and cozy.” Morgan said.

“Three bedrooms; two and a half baths.” Hotch replied. “There’s a manmade lake out back and good hunting in these woods.”

“Rossi keeps guns here?” Morgan asked.

“He keeps them locked up. I don’t have the keys or the combination.”

“Alright. Let’s check it out.”

He and Hotch got out of the car. Hotch looked at Emily before closing the door.

“Stay here and stay down.”

“No way,” she got out of the car. “I admit to not being overly fond of the woods. I will not sit in the car like a target.”

“This isn’t a horror film.” Morgan said.

“No, it’s a real nightmare.”

“Fine, just stick close to me.” Hotch took his gun off his shoulder as Morgan took one from his waist.

“I can shoot too.” Emily said. “I spent a lot of time at the range. There are certain regions of the world where you only feel secure knowing you can defend yourself in case all hell breaks loose.”

Morgan thought for a moment that maybe they wouldn’t be in this if she had taken the bullet to her husband. He shook off that thought and started up the steps. Hotch looked back at Emily.

“Just stay close.”

“I will, I promise.” She nodded, following him up the steps.

The two agents, with their protectee in tow, swept the place and found it empty. It looked as if it had been that way for a while, which suited their needs. They went back outside for their bags from the SUV. Derek parked it on the other side of the house where it wouldn’t be seen from the road.

Then he grabbed the electronic equipment supplied by John Blackwolf. It would take some time but he and Hotch planned to do a thorough sweep for audio and visual bugs. This was Rossi’s private paradise, not an FBI crash pad. Still, considering the twists and turns they took in just the past few days, no stone would be left unturned.

“Do you think I could take a bath?” Emily asked.

She was sitting on one of the bottom stairs and both agents saw how exhausted she was. Hotch really wished they could have taken her to the hospital for that knife wound but he trusted Blackwolf’s assessment and ability. With her face, and that of her son, likely plastered all over the television they might have to lie low for a while. While Jason Gideon wouldn’t stop until he got what he wanted, Erin Strauss wouldn’t either.

“That’s probably a good idea,” Hotch said. “You're in the middle room, Morgan and I on either side with doors for access. Rossi said there’s plenty of food so we’ll make some dinner.”

Emily raised an eyebrow; she didn’t bother to hide her skepticism.

“You're lucky I'm really hungry.” She stood slowly, turned, and went up the stairs.

Morgan looked at Hotch, who was looking after her with his arms crossed.

“She’s not the only one who’s hungry.” Morgan said. “I’ll check out the fridge.”

“That’s a good plan. We’ll have dinner and then sweep this place again. I don’t know how long we’ll have to be here but I need to know every crevice like the back of my hand.”

Morgan nodded, feeling the same way.

***

The water was nearly too hot, just the way she wanted it. Emily filled the antique porcelain tub before carefully removing her tee shirt. She walked into the bedroom to finish undressing. It was a beautiful cabin with lovely wood and antique furniture. Still there was no way she would ever be able to see it more than a prison. It was no one’s fault but her own that she was there.

Emily couldn’t spend the rest of her life feeling like this…something had to give. She grabbed a towel from the closet wrapping it around her naked frame. Back in the bathroom, she dropped it and slipped into the tub. Wincing from the hot water, Emily gritted her teeth and sat down. After 30 seconds she added a bit more cold water until she was almost comfortable.

She folded the smaller hand towel, leaning her head back on the rim. It was almost impossible to relax but knowing Hotch and Morgan were downstairs allowed her to finally close her eyes. They were in the middle of nowhere; no one had followed them. No bogeyman was going to get her just yet. Maybe it was alright to let her guard down just a little…

“Emily, I thought…”

She screamed when she heard the voice, sending some water splashing over the edge of the tub. Her first instinct, jumping up and running, was quickly dashed by her being completely naked. Instead Emily sunk deeper into the water, up to her chin. It was clear though that he saw everything the Lord gave her and the birthmark from her grandmother.

“I knocked but you didn’t answer.” Hotch said. “Were you asleep…you could’ve drowned.”

“I was resting my eyes. What can I do for you, Agent Hotchner?”

It unnerved her a bit that he never took his eyes off her. He wasn’t staring at her body but into her eyes. Emily couldn’t read his expression at all. Blank would have been the wrong word. The man looked as if he had so many thoughts and feelings that even he struggled to keep up. Damn if a mere mortal would ever figure him out.

“I cut up some fruit for you.” Hotch came closer and held out the ceramic bowl. “I thought you might like something…real.”

“Thanks,” Emily finally sat up and took it. “That was nice of you.”

“You’re welcome. Agent Morgan is putting chicken and vegetables on the grill so whenever you're ready come on down and have some dinner.”

God that almost sounded normal. Emily nodded and Hotch turned to walk out of the room. The sound of her voice made him turn around.

“I would like to call my father.” She said.

“That can be arranged. Morgan and I…”

“I have a cell phone.”

“What? You have a cell phone? Do you realize that…?”

“Jason could have been following us around the country using my SIM card against me?” Emily asked. “Of course I do Hotch. I've been trying to tell you that I know quite a lot. My father gave me a disposable cell phone before we left New Jersey that has been turned off the entire trip. Did you ever stop to think that Big Brother might be following us with those Government Issue phones you guys carry?”

“Our phones aren’t disposable but they are off the grid; believe me.” Hotch sighed. “We’ll talk about it later.”

“I want to call my father.”

“I know.”

He nodded and walked out of the room. Emily sighed, leaning back in the bathtub. She looked at the bowl of fruit…sliced strawberries, melon, pineapple, and white grapes. Drawing her knees to her chest, Emily tried to get back to that almost relaxed state but knew it was useless.

***

“Baby girl, it is damn good to hear your voice.”

“I can definitely say the same. I think you need to say something sexy for me.”

Morgan smiled. It was a clear night with a chilly breeze coming off the trees. Every star in the sky was visible…there was a reason they called this Big Sky Country. Derek couldn’t remember the last time, if ever, that he had seen that many stars. He was a city boy through and through. The woods gave him the creeps.

“I got a text from Reid earlier.” He said.

Garcia made a noise like a game show buzzer.

“There is absolutely nothing sexy about that.”

“He said the package is ready for pickup. I'm coming home.”

“You're getting warmer.” She replied. “Are you where you need to be?”

“We got in a few hours ago. It was a very interesting trip.”

“What happened?”

“I'm not telling you,” Morgan said. “You worry enough.”

“Oh God.”

“Hotch and I are in one piece and so is she. I finally had a chance to catch up on some reading.”

“Anything good?” Garcia asked.

“The case of The People vs. Jason Gideon. It has more holes than a golf course. Is Erin Strauss so desperate to climb the ladder that she’s willing to put her career on rusty rungs?”

“Things are looking up for her. Elizabeth Prentiss did a press conference this morning waving pictures of her daughter and grandson in happier times. NPD asked Jason Gideon to come in for questioning.”

“Asking doesn’t really matter.” Morgan replied.

“I think this is the kind where they showed up at his home with handcuffs. Not the fun kind either.”

“This case gets more and more baffling. Are you sure she’s not in up to her neck?”

“Everything I could find says no.” Penelope said. “I went down every rabbit hole and around every dark corner. Emily Prentiss is not her husband’s willing accomplice, at least not that I could find. Hell, on paper, even Gideon is clean as a whistle.”

“I'm sure you found something, mama. I know you like getting dirty.”

“Well I don’t like to brag…”

“Yeah you do. Go on, I am dying to hear you talk dirty to me.”

“You are so, so bad.” She laughed. “Your guy is pretty shady if you follow the money. Kyoto, Johannesburg, Switzerland, the Caymans, Thailand, Berlin…everything is clean when he’s done with it. That includes the man himself. Evidence against him would be circumstantial at best, and paper thin. Strauss’ best chance would be a murder charge. Some of the shady cretins Gideon knows, a jury could certainly infer that he made his family disappear.”

“He tried to, Garcia. He would have succeeded…”

“If it wasn’t for those pesky kids and their stupid dog?”

“Pretty much.” Morgan laughed. “I should go; I don’t want to tie up the line just in case. I’ll be in late tomorrow, but you know my first stop is to see my favorite girl. After JJ, it’s straight to your lair.”

“Cute, honey.”

“That’s me.”

“Be safe.” Garcia said.

“You know it. Bye.”

Derek was turning off his phone as Hotch came out on the porch. The senior Agent handed him a beer.

“I don’t think one will impair judgment.” He said. “In fact I think we deserve it.”

“You'll get no argument out of me.” Morgan took a healthy sip. “Where’s Prentiss?”

“Sound asleep, I just checked on her. She looks peaceful.”

“Thoughts of a new life might have calmed her.”

“She still has a long journey ahead.”

Hotch leaned on the wooden banister and Derek studied him. He had taken off his jacket and tie. Some buttons were undone, shirt sleeves rolled up. The shoulder holster was gone and his Glock rested comfortably on his waist. This was relaxed Hotch, which was a little bit sad.

“I'm on the 6:30 out of Helena tomorrow evening. I'm taking the SUV.”

“Rossi has a Jeep in the garage and an ATV. Still, I don’t think we were followed.”

“I don’t either, but since Gideon always seems to be right with us or a step ahead, I don’t plan on letting my guard down. How the hell did he know we were on that train?”

“What are you asking?” Hotch asked.

“A question.”

“Do you think Emily is somehow communicating with him?” Hotch thought about the smuggled cell phone. He felt guilty for not telling Morgan but had known him long enough to know he would blow a gasket.

“No. I'm just thinking how convenient it was for her mother to declare her missing.”

“She said her parents only spoke under duress. I also gather that she and her mother are estranged.”

“You have a kid, Hotch. If something ever happened to Jack, hypothetically, who would be your first call?”

“Haley.”

“Exactly.”

“Maybe Ambassador Prentiss lied to his ex-wife…maybe he told her he didn’t know where Emily was.” Hotch said. “Loose lips sink ships. He probably knew how much she loved Jason. He couldn’t trust her not to talk to him. She would probably think she was doing it for Emily’s own good; certainly for Jonah’s.”

“If she loved Jason so much how can she suddenly think him capable of murder?” Morgan asked. “Not just of Emily but his three year old son as well.”

“I think Elizabeth is genuinely worried about Emily.” Hotch said. “Erin Strauss smelled blood like the vulture she is so she pounced on a worried mother. She wants her indictment and the Ambassador just wants the bad feelings in her stomach to be wrong.”

Derek nodded, taking in more beer. He wondered how well he would sleep tonight. There wouldn’t be safety until Princess Prentiss was making a run for the border and they were back to chasing the normal sociopaths. The lengths people went to exercising control over those they loved or claimed to love never cease to amaze him.

“NPD brought Jason Gideon down to the station for questioning.” He said.

“The plot thickens.” Hotch replied.

“I just talked to Garcia. I called her after getting the text from Reid that the package was ready for pickup.”

“How long will you be gone?”

“I won't even count tomorrow since I'm not getting into Reagan until after midnight. I’ll probably crash and hit Quantico on Monday morning. I think the whole thing might take three days. While I'm there, I need to check out Jason Gideon with my own eyes.”

“I was going to say…”

“I know you were. I can read your mind.” Morgan said.

“You probably can.” Hotch almost grinned.

“No probably about it; I really can. Will you be alright here with Prentiss?”

“What do you mean?”

“The question is simple.”

“No,” Hotch shook his head. “Its not.”

“Tell me what you think I'm thinking.” Morgan said.

“I'm not a mind reader.”

They were both quiet for a while, enjoying the spring night and the beer. Hotch had a feeling about what Morgan was saying. If he refuted it too loudly it would only confirm it in his partner’s mind.

“I can't help wanting it to be different for her.” He conceded.

“It sucks for lots of people…we see it too much in our line of work. There is something else.”

“C'mon Morgan, spit it out. I'm tired and don’t want to play word games.”

“You look at her differently, Hotch. Is almost like you have feelings for her or something.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Its just empathy; surely you feel it too.”

Morgan made a slight movement with his neck but said nothing. Hotch crossed his arms.

“I do not have feelings for Emily Prentiss, that’s ridiculous. OK, I admit to having an overwhelming feeling that I need to fix this. The idea of her running forever with her son doesn’t sit well with me. There are so many amazing things she could be doing…the world is better with her in it.”

“You don’t even know her.” Morgan reasoned.

“Don’t act as if you don’t get a vibe from someone the second you meet them. I got the vibe, alright.”

“Well don’t get any vibes when you're here alone with her.”

“If you weren't my best friend I would take a swing at you for that.” Hotch replied through clenched teeth.

“That’s right; I am your best friend. I know what this past year and a half has been like for you. Then this beautiful woman comes along and needs a hero. You're a big damn hero, Hotch. I'm not trying to bust your balls; those feelings are normal. Just don’t let them get in the way of the goal.”

“There are no feelings. We haven’t even known her for three days. I admit to empathy, hell, in another life she might be someone I was friends with. Still, I am completely focused on what needs to be done.”

Morgan nodded. He didn’t quite believe him about Prentiss, three days or not. Life had been rough for Hotch this past year with the deterioration and eventual dissolution of his marriage. He became a part-time member of his son’s life, throwing himself even more into dangerous work. In another life, Emily would have been more than a friend.

Morgan was sure of it…she annoyed him in the same ways Hotch had when they first met. He knew his partner was focused on their job, even with the reminder it wasn’t that big of a concern. Still, the loss of this woman to a life of uncertainty and instability was the last thing the troubled FBI Agent needed. Hotch never got too close; Morgan had more than once, but there was a first time for everything. He wished it wasn’t a case filled with more twists, turns, and plot strands than a Lifetime miniseries.

“I got your back no matter what. To hell, Poughkeepsie, and back.”

That made Hotch smile. Poughkeepsie had been an awful case—ritualistic, coed murders—but they solved it and got out alive. That was one of the reasons Rossi put them together…no one did it like Hotch and Morgan.

“Ditto.” Hotch replied.

“I think I'm going to try and get some sleep.”

Morgan stood. He stretched and finished his beer. A proper meal and a few hours of relaxation helped exhaustion set in. He was still on guard, though; he would not be sleeping as if he was in his own bed. It beat an SUV, a chair, and a coach car by a country mile. Moving past Hotch, he patted his partner’s shoulder.

“Get some rest tonight; you deserve it.”

“Yeah. You’re in the front and I'm in the back. There’s a bathroom between Emily and me; you only have a door.”

“Right.” Morgan nodded.

“Oh, and Emily wants to call her father so she can check on Jonah.”

“That’s fine with me…I'm sure the separation is hard on her. Goodnight, Hotch.”

“Goodnight.”

Left alone, Hotch stared out into the dark woods. In a few days this would be over. Once Derek got back from DC with everything Emily needed, they would drive her to Calgary and she would be on her way. He still thought it was a good idea to lay low for at least a week. She needed to mend from the knife wound and the heat of the missing persons report needed to cool off.

JJ had sent a recording of Elizabeth Prentiss on CNN this evening flashing photos of her daughter wearing an Ivy League smile and holding her adorable son. Emily Prentiss had become America’s daughter tonight. There probably wasn’t a jury in the country that wouldn’t fry Jason Gideon, bodies and evidence be damned. That didn’t sit right with Hotch, personal feelings about the man aside. Surely this would all be over before anyone could probably investigate but very little sat right with Hotch right now. A domestic squabble grew in the middle of a federal investigation; independent of each other but now colliding like two Mack trucks.

Emily was not an abused woman crouching in a corner, but she was abused nonetheless. Everything was running through his mind but two and two kept equaling five. What did he need to add or take away to get a clearer picture? Hotch did not like having half the story…there had to be more. He didn’t think Emily was involved in anything illegal, but perhaps he shouldn’t be giving her the benefit of the doubt. Others he encountered certainly never got it.

While Morgan was gone Hotch needed to get more out of her. Maybe in the end it just wouldn’t make sense; sometimes life didn’t. He would prefer the whole story no matter what. Even if the only thing going through his mind right now was one needed to be careful what they wished for.

***

Hotch walked into the den. “How does breakfast for dinner sound?”

“I'm sorry?” Emily pulled the ear buds from her ears.

“You shouldn’t wear those. You won't be able to hear me when I call you.”

“Alright,” Emily nodded. “I was just trying…it’s a little bit of normalcy.”

“Rossi has an iHome over there on the shelf, plug it in. I'm going to make some steak and eggs; are you hungry?”

“I've been eating too much lately.” She laughed; it was self-deprecating. “I wouldn’t say I'm on a diet but…”

“Fuck it,” Hotch said, a grin flashing across his face.

“Agent Hotchner, such language.”

“There’s a variety of food here…I’ll make you whatever you'd like.”

“You really don’t have to cater to me. I'm not a princess.” She said.

“I'm not the world’s best cook.”

“Well,” Emily stood from the couch. She slipped her iPod in her pocket and went to the shelf to get the iHome. “Maybe if we work together, two mediocres might make a perfect.”

“I'm better than mediocre.” Hotch replied.

“We’ll see.” She grinned, brushing past him and walking toward the kitchen.

He didn’t want to smile but couldn’t help himself. There was something about her; he was just drawn to her. Hotch slipped his hands into the pocket of his slacks and followed. Emily plugged in the little stereo, sticking her purple iPod Nano in the right place. She scanned through songs, stopped, and pushed the button. He listened to the music cue up for U2.

“How about omelets instead?” Emily asked.

“I can live with that. Do we still get steak?”

Emily smiled, opening the cabinet beside her and pulling out a can.

“And potatoes.” She said.

“Potatoes in a can? I'm not sure that’s right.”

“It will be…leave that part to me.”

***

It was delicious, absolutely delicious. Hotch hardly wanted to say; giving her a compliment seemed too weird. It seemed…he just shouldn’t do it. They sat together at the kitchen table, plates heavy with steak and potato omelets. Hotch made homemade iced tea while Carly Simon played on the stereo. _Nobody Does It Better_ indeed.

“So how was it?”

He looked at her. Her face was beautiful, inquisitive; he had to smile.

“It was amazing.” Hotch replied.

“Good.” Emily smiled as well. “This is my first attempt but if you watch enough times you learn something.”

“Are your parents good cooks?” Hotch asked.

“My stepmother is excellent. Actually, cooking together is something she and my father do a lot…its how they bond. Jason is such an amazing cook; it was another thing that attracted me to him.”

Mentioning her husband was a good way to bring Hotch back to reality. This wasn’t some romantic getaway with the woman of his dreams. Emily Prentiss was running for what could be her life from a sociopath husband. Hotch didn’t know a damn thing about her and the whole situation gave him a bad feeling. Was his life so sorry that he would fall for a femme fatale? He didn’t like to think that way about her.

Sometimes shitty things happened to good people. Oh hell, he didn’t know what to think. He stood abruptly from the table, taking both plates and putting them in the sink. He watched Emily stretch her arms above her head; she was probably thinking about a clove and a good night’s sleep. She gasped when the voice of Van Morrison came through the speakers.

“I love this song.” She said.

 _Well it’s a marvelous night for a moondance  
With the stars up above in your eyes  
A fantabulous night to make romance  
‘Neath the cover of October skies  
And all the leaves on the trees are falling  
To the sound of the breezes that blow  
And I'm trying to please to the calling  
Of your heartstrings that play soft and low_

“Do you dance, Agent Hotchner?”

“Absolutely not.” Hotch shook his head.

“Oh c'mon,” Emily stood. “This song is amazing.”

“No; I don’t dance.”

“Don’t or won't?” She reached for his hands. “There is a difference.”

“It’s a little bit of both.”

Hotch was upset for letting her drag him to the middle of the floor. Emily put one arm around his neck, slipping her free hand into his. Against his better judgment, his hand found her hip.

“Emily…”

“Count out the steps; 1, 2, 3, 1, 2, 3.”

“I'm not that bad.” He grinned.

“Are you sure about that?”

“No.” He pulled her closer, his hand moving up her back.

They didn’t step, it was better to sway. Hotch wanted to save her feet as much as possible. Actually he didn’t want to be dancing at all. He could feel Emily’s breath on his neck, her breasts on his chest, and her fingers creeping through his belt loops.

“We need to stop.” Hotch finally put some distance between them. “This behavior is inappropriate.”

“What's inappropriate about dancing?” she asked.

“Everything. This is not…we’re not doing this, Emily.”

She nodded, ducking her head solemnly. When she looked at him again the clouds had cleared but Hotch could see the high walls and barbed wire like in the Jersey motel.

“A drink sounds like a good idea,” she said. “Or is that inappropriate as well?”

“Help yourself.” He waved toward the wine rack on the counter. “A drink never hurt anyone.”

Emily grabbed a bottle of Chateau Ste. Michelle and searched the drawers until she found a corkscrew. Then she got a wineglass.

“Let me help.”

“I think I can handle a bottle of wine, Agent Hotchner.”

Hotch held up his hands in surrender and went back to washing the dinner dishes. Emily quickly uncorked the bottle, pouring a healthy glass. Without a word to him, she went outside. He sighed but decided it was better to just let it go. What could he really say? He would probably just make it worse. That didn’t mean he didn’t want to fix it.

After a little looking around, he found a cap to close up the wine. Hotch took a beer from the refrigerator and walked out on the porch. Emily had pulled a chair close to the banister so she could put her feet up. Two candles were lit on the table, casting a strange glow over Emily’s face. She was slowly smoking a clove and didn’t look in his direction. He leaned on the banister, the same as he had talking to Morgan the other night.

“I'm sorry.” Hotch spoke softly.

“For what? You're right.”

“I'm not right.”

“I guess the little joys and frivolities of life, like moondancing, are over. I think…I almost felt normal.”

“There is nothing wrong with moondancing, Emily.”

She didn’t respond, just smoked and drank her wine.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” She looked at him.

“You have choices. You have money, resources, power, and privilege. Why are you doing this?”

Emily turned away again but Hotch pushed further.

“You can get the best attorneys; orders of protection, hell, probably even Secret Service agents. Why would anyone choose a life on the run when they have so many other options?”

“What are you really asking me, Agent Hotchner?”

“Is there something you're not telling me?” he asked.

“There are probably many things I'm not telling you. My personal life is really none of your business.”

“It is if your chickens coming home to roost is going to get my partner and I killed. There are people out there who really need our help.”

“You go to hell.” Emily got up from the chair. “I didn’t ask for your help. Things weren't perfect but I was handling it on my own. I don’t need some damn hero…you can't save me.”

“Well I'm here, whether you like it or not. I can help you if you just tell me the truth.”

“Why would I lie to you? What reason do I have?”

“I'm not…”

“That is exactly what you're saying.” Emily cut him off. “Just spit it out…say what you need to.”

“Are you involved in something you haven’t told me about? Your husband has proven to be a dangerous man but is there something else.”

“I don’t have anything else to say. I refuse to be interrogated like this.”

Emily took her wineglass and started walking to the door.

“I'm only trying to help you, Emily. I can’t help you if I don’t know the whole truth. What are you so afraid of?” Hotch pleaded with her. He was angry at himself for resorting to that. Why couldn’t she just trust him; trust someone for once?

“I've told you everything.” Her tone was exasperated. “Dammit Hotch, what do you want?”

“I want to know how these guys seem to know where we are headed for one thing. Then I find out you’ve got a throwaway cell phone.”

“I haven’t contacted him. He’s a resourceful man, as much as you and Agent Morgan. Shit, for all I know he’s implanted a GPS chip under my skin. I didn’t ask for this and I didn’t ask for you. Just leave me alone.”

“That’s not going to happen. I'm not calling you a liar but…there are so many holes in the story. Are you in over your head? Who is trying to hurt you?”

“Jason!”

“Why? He’s a control freak but sending assassins seems over the top. We’ve gone through everything with a fine-toothed comb and can't find any evidence that your marriage was anything other than perfect.”

Emily laughed though it was mirthless.

“I was so stupid; I honestly thought you were different. My life is in danger and you are accusing me of somehow being responsible for it. I bet you're convinced I'm the one who turned Jason into a criminal. I'm really sorry if my life on paper isn’t a page turner. Forgive me for tearing you away from all that action and adventure for a silly domestic issue.”

“I didn’t say that,” Hotch crossed his arms. “Don’t put words in my mouth. I'm sorry I even brought this up.”

“So am I.”

Turning away from him, Emily went into the house and up the stairs. Hotch let out a noise of frustration. When he saw Morgan again he was definitely going to have a bone to pick with him. That exercise accomplished nothing except now Emily was pissed at him. He still thought she was hiding something but who was he to press her?

Hadn’t she been through enough? Hotch wished that nagging voice inside him saying that something else was going on would leave him alone. No matter how he wished things could be different, the best thing he could do was give Emily Prentiss the contents of the package Morgan would bring back and forget he ever met her.

***

He was a light sleeper and sometimes an insomniac. Only complete darkness could bring about sleep and the slightest noise usually woke him. So the light footsteps made Hotch open his eyes. The room was still dark, but he knew he was no longer alone. He inhaled; the scent of the room had not changed. Lying on his side, Hotch reached under his pillow, gripped his Glock, sat up and cocked it.

“You'd do better not to come any closer.” He said into the darkness.

“Don’t shoot me, Hotch.”

“Emily?” He reached for the lamp. “I could’ve killed you.”

“I didn’t think you'd shoot into a dark room, but maybe I was wrong.”

“I don’t shoot without provocation.” He put the safety back on, sliding the gun back under the pillow. “I also can't see in the dark. What's wrong?”

“I can't sleep.”

“What's wrong?” he repeated.

Emily came to sit on the edge of the bed as Hotch propped up his pillows. He found it hard not to look at her choice of sleep attire…a Peyton Manning jersey and nothing else. Her new short hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she sat on one of her bare feet.

“What if I'm making the biggest mistake of my life?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about what you said. I do have choices, so many more than a lot of women out there. Why would I put this burden on myself, and Jonah, if I don’t have to?”

“Because you were afraid,” Hotch replied. “Deep down you were sure that Jason was capable of killing you.”

“I still am. I'm afraid for my life, Hotch, I swear.”

“I believe you.” He put his hands on her shoulders.

“I didn’t tell a soul. I thought people would look at me like a victim, or worse, like a fool. I didn’t even tell my parents. I only called my father after Jason had my accounts frozen. I really thought I could do it on my own…the less they knew the better.”

“You were wrong. It’s not because you're not strong; you're very strong. This just isn’t the way.”

“I don’t know what else to do. If I go back and Jason pretends to be fair about this, he is going to kidnap Jonah the second I take my eyes off him. No judge will refuse him visitation because of my maternal instinct. He might spare my life but he is never going to give up his son.”

Emily started to cry and Hotch pulled her to him. She fought it for a minute, didn’t want to be weak, but he held on. He stroked her back; whispered that it was alright to cry. It was alright to get it out and she didn’t have to be alone and afraid anymore. They were going to fix this…they could make it right.

“I just want my son to be alright. I'm scared for me but I'm petrified for Jonah.” She sobbed.

“We’re going to take care of him, I promise. Jason will never take him.”

“You don’t know that. You’ve seen what he is capable of.”

“Emily,” he took hold of both sides of her face, making her look at him. “I won't let him. I will not let him hurt you or Jonah. I won't.”

“I can't let you take on that burden.”

“There are worse things to take on.”

“Hotch…”

“Shh,” he gave her gentle Eskimo kisses. “We’re going to make this right.”

His lips were warm on hers, tentative at first. Emily moved her arms around his neck. She deepened the kiss, Hotch moaned against her. He pulled the covers back, his arms around Emily’s waist, and brought her into bed with him. The clothes came off quickly; there wasn’t much to start. Emily’s jersey and panties and Hotch’s boxers and tee shirt hit the floor.

Naked, skin on skin, Emily couldn’t help but moan. Hotch’s kisses became more passionate, nearly frantic, as he touched her body. He wanted to feel every inch of her…stroke, caress, nuzzle. She had round, pert breasts, a flat stomach, smooth buttocks, shapely hips and thighs. Her skin was so warm and fragrant; Hotch couldn’t help but want to make it his own. The way she whispered his name nearly drove him mad.

Was it possible to ache so much for someone you barely knew? Emily loved the strength of his shoulders. She loved his shoulder blades, his arms, and his back. She loved the way his body felt on top of hers; so strong but gentle and light.

When the kissing stopped, Emily opened her eyes. She looked at him, into him, with his slightly opened mouth and pouty bottom lip. She didn’t want to stop him or make him stop, which is what his eyes asked her. Instead, she ran her thumb across his bottom lip and moaned when Hotch sucked it into his mouth.

It had been a long time since either one of them had made love. Their bodies were foreign to each other but connected on a level that words could never describe. When she cried out his name, Hotch replied with hers. When she pressed against him, he pressed back. His thrusts were long, strong, and deep but it was clear her satisfaction was central to his.

“Mmm, oh God Hotch.” Emily gripped his hips, her eyes fluttering shut. “Oh God, don’t stop.”

His mouth made love to her shoulders, chest, and breasts. He knew he was close…felt as if he was going to detonate. Emily grabbed his face and held it close to hers.

“You are so beautiful.” He whispered. “Ohhh, Emily.”

She was falling, quivering as Hotch stroked her. He watched as she closed her eyes and whimpered his name. When their climax finally came, a moment that was so amazing to share, the tears slid out of Emily’s eyes. Her lips trembled when he kissed her softly, gently, murmuring words of sweetness.

“Don’t,” Emily barely whispered, holding his body on hers when Hotch tried to move. “Stay.”

He didn’t say anything, just buried his face in the crook of her neck to inhale the scent of their mingled flesh. Aaron Hotchner had done it; he had gone past the point of no return. Damnation was not supposed to feel this blissful. The fall would certainly be more treacherous than the climb.

***

“How’s it going?” Morgan asked.

“I'm more concerned about what's happening there.”

“I got the package. I also paired up with JJ to stake out the man himself.”

“What did you find?”

Hotch was sitting in the kitchen on Tuesday night. Emily Prentiss was asleep in his bed. They had made love again tonight; he knew it wasn’t a good situation. What the hell was the matter with him? All his life Hotch had been on the straight and narrow and now he was falling through the blackness. He had no idea where he was going to land.

“He’s surely not walking around like a man with multiple indictments hanging over his head. There’s work, dinner meetings, cooking, and evenings with friends.”

“Any friends in particular?” Hotch asked.

“Elle Greenaway.”

“The attorney?”

“His attorney.” Derek said. “I don’t know about you but I don’t make elaborate meals for my lawyer.”

“You don’t have a lawyer.”

“You know what I'm saying.”

“So they're more than friends?” Hotch asked.

“She left his place at one o’clock this morning. A Towncar picked her up. Oh, and one good thing about Strauss’ vendetta…we've gotten better audio surveillance. We couldn’t get a bug on his cell phone but the house and office are hot. Gideon hardly mentioned Emily, but he has two different PIs hunting for his son. Also, we think that he’s convinced his mother-in-law that Emily’s run off with his kid.”

“What about the police?”

“They're running a standard investigation. Lots of questions but few answers are coming in. Everyone says their marriage was perfect.”

“Nobody’s perfect.” Hotch muttered.

“I am sure Jason will talk about it when he sits down with Diane Sawyer sometime next week. What about Emily, Hotch? Has she said anything else? Have you asked her?”

“Um…she’s not sure if she wants to do this anymore.”

“Buyer’s remorse?” Derek asked.

“I reminded her of how many choices she had. It doesn’t have to be like this.”

“So she’s coming back?”

“You need to get back here…we’ll make the right decision.”

“Yeah, I’ll be back tomorrow. Gideon is heading out of town.”

“Where?” Hotch asked.

“From what JJ and I gathered, Germany. He got a hot tip from one of his detectives.”

“That’s where Emily’s father and stepmother are with Jonah, Morgan. Where in Germany is he going?”

“Berlin; Elle is going with him. They are chartering a private plane and I have Garcia looking but this is off the radar. I haven’t decided if he is just a guy who wants his missing son back or a criminal mastermind. What does that say?”

“I don’t know,” Hotch replied, sighing. “He could be both or neither. This whole damn case…”

“Tell me about it. And you got nothing from Prentiss? What's been going on there since Sunday?”

“Nothing. Why are you interrogating me? She says she doesn’t know anything about his business beyond the superficial and I believe her. All she wants is to protect her son. If Jason can turn on her in anger then who’s to say he won't do the same to Jonah? It looks like he already replaced her with a shinier model.”

“Elle’s been around the block…she damn sure ain’t shiny.”

Hotch smirked but a long silence on the line followed.

“I would never interrogate you,” Morgan said. “We've known each other too long. I trust you implicitly, Hotch, whether or not you trust yourself right now or not.”

“It’s almost over.” he seemed to be talking more to himself than Morgan. “It’s almost over and we can move on.”

“That’s a good plan. I’ll be back tomorrow…Rossi is getting me a chartered flight back. We are all watching each other, Hotch; it’s fuckin intense. Gideon is watching us watching him, Strauss is definitely watching us and we are really watching her. And Big Brother is watching us all. I think it might be a good idea to send some agents we trust over to Germany to look after Ambassador Prentiss and his wife, if Gideon is on his way there.”

“How is he even leaving the country with all these indictments over his head?” Hotch asked.

“Very sneakily. You need to contact Rossi and let him know about Ambassador Prentiss’ whereabouts.”

“Right. I’ll see you tomorrow and we’ll get this worked out.”

“Yeah. Hey, keep your chin up, man.”

“I will. Goodnight, Morgan.”

“Goodnight.”

Hotch switched lines and called Section Chief David Rossi. Their conversation was short and to the point. After that he went upstairs and checked on Emily. She was sound asleep in his bed, curled under the sheets. There was something beautiful and peaceful about her in that state. He was sure that Emily was one of the good guys.

She was just in a bad situation that she wanted to get out of. He knew that his objectivity was tainted at this point but it didn’t change his many years as an FBI Agent. Bad guys were not always easy to point out; deception and disguise were getting better and better. Good people Hotch could usually point out a mile away. There were still more questions than answers; he would probably never know the full story. Still, if Emily changed her mind and wanted to return to her life in DC with her son he would do everything in his power to help.

This was their case; it wasn’t over until they said it was over. Jason Gideon was on the move and so were Agents Hotchner and Morgan. They wouldn’t need lies and deception to come out on top like some of their brethren…the good guys never did. Against his better judgment, but compelled to anyway, Hotch slid between the sheets and held her close. He wouldn’t sleep much tonight; his mind was racing, but this would be the last time. He wanted to appreciate the last time.

***

Emily poured herself a cup of coffee as Hotch walked into the kitchen. She had been gone when he woke up that morning; they hadn’t said anything to each other since last night. Well, they hadn’t talked much then either. When he brushed past her to get his own cup they both felt the electricity course through their bodies. Emily actually shivered.

“I'm sorry,” she said, not looking up from her cup as she added cream and sugar.

“There’s no reason to apologize to me, Emily. It takes two…at least it did this time.”

“I'm not the kind of woman who takes this lightly.” She looked up. “Maybe I used to be; I was wild in my youth. I just need you to understand that…”

“I understand.” Hotch replied.

“I'm not sure that you do.”

“I'm trying to.” He put his hand on top of hers resting on the counter.

There were a million words she wanted to say. Even in her mind they seemed to be in a language Emily couldn’t translate. That was saying a lot for a woman fluent in five languages and conversational in at least 12.

“One of these days it won't be so damn hard to say everything I need to say.” She said.

Hotch heard a creak on the porch and his guard went up. He moved around her and looked out the window just as the front door came crashing in. Emily screamed as bullets cracked and ricocheted. Hotch threw them both on the ground, pulling his Glock from his back holster. They started crawling toward the den; he needed access to an exit. Thankfully the wall separated the kitchen from the front door so whoever was in there hadn’t caught sight of them.

“When I tell you to run, you better run.” He whispered. They’d made it behind the couch, feet from the side door. Listening intently Hotch could hear at least four different sets of steps. Two were rather heavy…most likely the muscle.

“I won't leave you here.”

“You're going to do what I say.” He turned to her, took her face in his hands. “Don’t fight me on this Emily. They're here to kill us and we’re outmanned.”

“Give me your backup gun.” Emily said. “And don’t give me that funny look; I know you have one.”

Hotch nodded, sighing. He unhooked his piece and watched her hook it to her own ankle with precision. They were still for a moment, could hear the men getting closer. He closed his eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, and squeezed her hand.

“Run, Emily. Run!”

She hesitated for the slightest moment before breaking through the screen door. It surprised the shooters; Hotch jumped up and shot one at close range. Emily turned around just in time to see Hotch get shot.

“Hotch!”

“Go!” It was the last thing he said before losing consciousness.

Emily clipped her ankle jumping down the last three steps but she shook it off. She didn’t care about anything but running. They were behind her, she knew it, and all that mattered was staying alive. Tears stung her eyes though Emily wasn’t sure if it was from seeing Hotch shot or the bushes, brambles, and branches cutting her as she ran. Where the hell she was running, Emily didn’t know. She knew she would rather die in those woods than at the hands of her husband.

When she felt the two sharp pains in her back, Emily turned around. She saw an unrecognizable face as darkness started to embrace her. They were coming toward her but she couldn’t move. Her whole body was heavy; Emily fell to her knees. The world stopped turning before going black.

***

“Katya, wake up my darling. Wake up.” Emily froze as soon as she heard the voice. Only one person called her that, the Russian version of her middle name, and fear ran through her veins like ice water. She felt his lips on her face and it made her cringe. Maybe if she just pretended she was still unconscious…

“Wake up!” he exclaimed, slapping her hard across the face.

Emily opened her eyes, holding back a yelp of pain. She pulled her bottom lip into her mouth, tasting the iron from the blood.

“There are those pretty brown eyes. Hello there.” Jason smiled at her, wiping the tear sliding down her cheek. “Don’t cry, love, I'm here to save you.”

“I don’t know what you're talking about.”

“Obviously you were kidnapped. It’s all over the news that you and Jonah are missing. The police brought me down for all kinds of inappropriate questions, but I didn’t know a thing. All I could tell them was that I was desperate to find my wife and son. Now I've found you. Where’s Jonah?”

“I don't know.” Emily replied.

“Don’t play games with me Emily. Where is my son?”

“I don’t know, Jason!” she shouted.

“Dammit,” he pulled her up from the bed by her hair. Emily screamed, trying to loosen his grip but was unsuccessful. “You will tell me where to find my son!”

“Then what? Then I’m of no use to you anymore.”

“So that’s what this is about? You're punishing me for what? I made some mistakes and you take away my son.”

“You turned into a monster!”

“Give me my damn son!”

“I don't know where he is.”

Jason took a deep breath through his nose and out of his mouth before backslapping her. Emily stumbled but remained on her feet.

“That’s it, Jason…beat it out of me. That will make you more of a man.”

“Perhaps I could just ask your lover,” He replied, grabbing her hard by the shoulder. “Unfortunately dead men don’t talk. So it might be a problem.” Jason noticed that that got Emily’s attention. “You want to take a moment to mourn the loss?”

“You son of bitch.”

“Who is he? I didn’t even know you had it in you.”

“Just like I bet you didn’t know I knew about Elle Greenaway. How long has that been going on? All I did was love you and you just had to have more. I wasn’t good enough…our life wasn’t good enough. I tried to make it perfect; it was what I wanted too. That man was not my lover, he was an FBI Agent.”

“I don’t give a damn who he was. All I care about is Jonah. You will not separate me from my blood.”

“You won't take him; I’ll die first.”

“Be careful what you wish for.”

He went for her again but this time Emily was ready. She punched him hard in the kidneys and ran out of the room. Her legs were so heavy; the weight of them nearly sent her tumbling down the stairs. She was only halfway down when Jason grabbed her and pulled her the rest of the way. It knocked the wind out of her when he threw her into the wall by the front door. His forearm came down on the back of her neck.

“Last chance,” he whispered in her ear. “I don't want to hurt you but I will. Please don’t make me do this. No one will recognize your pretty little face when I am done with it, Emily. Think of your low threshold for pain and tell me where Jonah is.”

“Do what you have to, Jason. You can't hurt me anymore and you will not touch my child.”

“I won't stop until I find him. I've got people all over the world with orders to bring him back to me. Anyone who gets in the way is considered collateral damage. That includes your precious daddy and his beautiful trophy wife. No one will keep me from my son…I will not let that happen. Do you understand me?”

“Just kill me; I'm sick of listening to you rant and rave.” Emily grimaced as his hand came down harder on her neck.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Special Agent Derek Morgan cocked his gun and focused it on Jason.

“You're planning on shooting an unarmed man in the back, Agent Morgan?” Jason asked, not even turning around. “Not even a burn the book cowboy like you would do a thing like that.”

“You don’t know anything about me.”

Jason grabbed Emily, turning around to face Derek. He used his wife to shield his body.

“You're willing to risk your career for this woman? She pretends to be everything you want and then reveals her true self. She already took your partner down; do you want to be next? She stole my son right from under my nose.”

“He killed Hotch, Morgan.” Emily told him.

“Do you see what she made me do? I've never hurt a soul, Agent Morgan; I just want my child back. She has no right to keep Jonah from me. He’s my flesh and blood.”

“You have no right to come here and abuse her. You followed her all the way across the country…you had to have a reason.”

“I want my son!” he screamed. “He means everything to me.”

“Let her go and we can talk.” Derek replied. “This can be easy or hard; I'm up for it either way.”

“Your pal Erin Strauss is going to indict me for murder.” Jason squeezed Emily’s neck tighter. “My lovely wife’s face has been all over TV. She and my son are missing and presumed dead. Killing her right now would probably be in my favor. I'm going to fry for it anyway.”

“She’s the only one who can tell you where he is.” Derek said.

“I’ll find him. Do you know what I've been through with this woman? I loved her, took care of her, treated her like gold and look what she does to me. She kidnaps our child and fucks the first guy who comes along and pretends to care.”

“I was never unfaithful.”

“You shut the hell up!”

“Let her go, Gideon. How long do you think I want to play this game?”

“I don’t need her anyway. She’s been a drain on me since…”

His spiel was interrupted by Emily’s quick elbow to the chin. Jason let go of her, stumbling back and cursing. It was so hard for her to get away; Emily fell when she tried to run. Those drugs really packed a punch.

“You're dead to me, Emily. You are dead!” Jason came at her with a knife and Morgan shot him in the shoulder. He flew back against the wall, blood gushing from the wound. Morgan still had his Glock on him but soon Jason stopped moving. He died with his eyes still gazing at his wife.

“He shot Hotch!” Emily struggled to stand. She stumbled, nearly fell again, but remained on her feet. “Hotch made me run. There were four or five of them and some chased me into the woods. I just remember waking up and Jason was there.”

Derek nodded; he was pulling her into the den where Hotch was on the couch. Emily fell down beside him and grabbed hold of his face.

“I thought you were dead.” She started to cry. “What happened?”

“They pumped me full of some kind of tranquilizer, a lot of it. We have to get the hell out of here now…I think they rigged the place to explode. He was going to kill us and blow us to hell.”

Derek helped Hotch up and they started toward the side door. Emily helped as best she could but she was as drugged as he was. They were halfway down the side stairs when she remembered.

“My backpack.”

“To hell with it.” Derek replied.

“I have to get it…it’s all I have left.”

“Prentiss!” Derek struggled to hold up Hotch.

“Emily!”

“I’ll be back.”

“Go after her Derek. Bring her back.”

“I’ll get you out of here and then go back.”

Hotch protested but Derek threw him over his shoulder and rushed down the steps. He opened the back door of his rented SUV, sitting him down.

“Don’t worry about me Morgan; I'm fine, get Emily.”

He nodded and ran back around the corner to the side of the house. Emily came bursting through the door just as the Earth seemed to crack open. Blinded by a white light, Morgan fell back. He grunted when Emily landed practically on top of him.

“Ow.” He moaned.

Morgan rolled them so that her back was in the dirt. Emily had a pulse and after a few gentle slaps to her already bruised face, she gasped for air.

“I hope whatever is in there was worth it.”

“You should be nicer to me. I was almost blown to bits.” She retorted.

“That was your own fault, Prentiss.” He scooped her up into his arms. “I'm taking you both to the hospital.”

He helped her into the SUV beside Hotch and closed the door. Closing Hotch’s side, Morgan hopped into the driver’s seat and sped off.

“As if Rossi needed more reason to hand us our asses,” He grumbled. “We got his vacation home blown up.”

“Not our fault.” Hotch whispered. “Hey, you handled those three guys quite nicely.”

“Would you say it was more _MacGyver_ or _Magnum P.I._?” Derek asked.

“It was totally, 100% MacGyver.”

“Yeah, I can live with that. Rest and we’ll be at the hospital soon.”

Hotch nodded, knowing it was OK to pass out. He really didn’t have much choice anyway. Emily rested her head on his shoulder, passing out as well. His hand slid over hers as it lay on his lap.

Morgan looked at them in the rearview mirror and rolled his eyes. He would get the two of them the medical attention they needed. That was a bit more important than getting to the bottom of the handholding thing. At least it was at the moment.

***

Hotch was coming out of the haze. He could hear rain falling hard outside and see the glare of the artificial lighting. Morgan sat by his bed eating a bowl of pudding. Hotch grimaced when he tried to sit up, deciding that wasn’t the best idea.

“You're eating my pudding.” Hotch whispered. Morgan looked up, smiling.

“You don’t like butterscotch. Waste not, want not.”

“What hit me?” he asked. “I feel like I was trampled by buffalo.”

“Nembutal; it's what they used to euthanize cats.”

“Nice. Is Emily alright, Morgan? She ran back in the house…oh God.”

“She’s fine.” He put his hand on Hotch’s chest. “She took a hit from the blast and she had been given the same sedative as you but she’s going to be fine.”

“Are you sure?” Hotch asked.

“Yeah. Rossi is on his way here and he called Ambassador Prentiss to let him know Emily was safe. He should be here soon. Everything is alright. Well, we’re alive so let’s count ourselves lucky.”

“What happened to Gideon?”

“He’s dead. Emily took a beating and he said some unsavory things but I shot him. It was like that scene out of _Star Trek VI_ when Chang kept quoting Shakespeare and Bones wants him to shut the hell up.”

“Morgan…” Hotch didn’t want to smile but he did.

“He was going to stab her; I did what I had to.”

“Did he hurt her?”

“She’s a survivor. She’s going to be alright.”

Hotch nodded, trying to relax. He felt dizzy, nauseous, and his body felt weighed down.

“I feel like shit,” He muttered.

“You might for the next few days; it’s a powerful sedative. They were concerned about the amount you were given but you’ll live. They're going to keep you for a day or so to monitor you.”

“Are you sure Emily’s alright, Derek?”

“I'm sure. Relax, you're not going anywhere. I'm not breaking you out of the hospital like I did in Milwaukee.”

They were quiet for a while; Morgan figured Hotch was dozing off. He would hang around for a while longer and then find someplace to crash for the night. There were some hotels close to the hospital. He also needed to check in with Penelope…this had probably hit the FBI grapevine by now. Strauss would have a bird when she discovered that only dental records would be able to identify her “sure bet” to the Deputy Director’s office.

“We slept together.” Hotch’s voice pierced the silence.

“I'm really proud of you.”

“I'm almost afraid to ask why.”

“I never expected you to tell me. You keep things to yourself; from yourself sometimes.”

“I stepped over the line, Morgan.” He closed his eyes.

“You're in a hospital bed because you were doing your job. There are always cases where we get too close or in too deep. It reminds us that we’re human. Don’t beat yourself up about it.”

“It’s a violation…”

“Of absolutely nothing,” Morgan replied. “You know the manual by heart…you know that I'm right.”

“That doesn’t mean it should have happened.”

“I won't bother telling you to let it go. She means something to you, that’s not a crime.”

“I barely know her,” Hotch reasoned.

“I'm not the relationship police; don’t ask me for the right answer. You need to rest anyway and I need some real food. Man cannot live on pudding alone. I mean it when I say I don’t want you beating yourself up about it.”

“I won't feel better until I see her and know she’s OK.”

“The doctor might let you walk around in the morning if you sleep tonight. Emily is right down the hall…call her. Will you be alright while I get dinner?”

Hotch nodded, holding out his fist. Derek smiled and pressed his fist to his partner’s.

“Oh, here’s the answer.” He placed a blinking chip in Hotch’s hand. The longtime Agent instantly recognized the tracking device.

“Where did you find it?”

“The inside lining of that damn backpack.” Morgan replied. “I hate to say I told you so…”

“It came back to bite us in the ass.” Hotch mumbled. “Gideon must’ve followed her every move even before the marriage slid downhill.”

“I'm thinking that could be part of the reason it did. Get some rest; I’ll be back soon.”

Hotch watched as Derek walked out of the room. Something in him wouldn’t allow him to sleep just yet. Soon the pull of unconsciousness would be too strong to fight but for now his mind was on Emily. The last thing she said to him before all hell broke loose was that she wanted to be able to say everything she needed to say.

He did as well. It was over now and soon real life would come calling; someone else would need his help. There was not much time for Hotch to do or say anything. Before he dropped back into the blackness, he felt someone take his hand and kiss it. Hotch fell asleep with a smile on his face. Whether it was real or a dream he knew it wasn’t Morgan.

***

She loved watching him just being a little boy with other little boys. He swung upside down on the monkey bars, thick black curls falling over his face, without a care in the world. She would do the sign of the cross and pray he didn’t break every bone in his body. He would swing, jump, slide, laugh…his energy never waned. His mother kept a close eye on him but maintained her distance.

Seeing him run and play filled her with joy. He was a smart, beautiful, and gregarious social butterfly. He had large, inquisitive eyes like his father and the fearlessness she had before life taught her there were plenty of things to be afraid of. On a warm Saturday six weeks after her life was forever changed, Emily Prentiss hoped that was one lesson her son Jonah never had to learn. A man sat down beside her with a large cup of tea. Emily looked over, a smile spreading across her face. He matched it and his dimples came out of their hiding place.

“Hi,” He said.

“Hi.”

Emily quickly glanced over at Jonah, who was entertaining himself with a large green ball, before focusing again on Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner.

“It’s been a while,” she said. “I didn’t even get to say goodbye.”

“Your father wanted to get you back home. You’d been through enough.”

“How long were you in the hospital?”

“Three days. I was lucky; the barbiturates didn’t cause permanent nerve damage.” Hotch replied.

“I'm so sorry. I feel like I'm to blame.”

“I was doing my job, Emily. Rossi gave me a ten-day vacation before I ended up in Cleveland on serial bank robberies and then Miami on home invasions.”

“You're still with Morgan?” Emily asked.

“We’re going strong. When I came back to DC, I called your father and he told me how to get in touch with you. So many times I picked up the phone but had no idea what to say.”

“Yeah, that sounds familiar.”

“I wanted to give you space,” Hotch said. “I didn’t want to remind you of a stressful time in your life.”

“I've been working on mediations between Moscow and Odessa for oil rights…that’s stressful, Hotch.”

He grinned, sipping his tea.

“So you're back at work?”

“I love my job; I was happy to come back. There have been some overseas offers, Embassy work, but I'm staying here.”

“You don’t want a life of adventure and intrigue?” he asked, hazel eyes sparkling.

“No,” Emily shook her head and laughed. “I want Sunday dinners, trips to the park with Jonah, a good book and a glass of wine, bad movies on Lifetime, peace and solitude. I want…”

“I want to see you again.” He cut her off. “I tried to stop thinking about you Emily, I really did, but it hasn’t been working well for me. I don’t know what kind of chance we have, but I have to try.”

Emily was speechless. She looked away from him and at Jonah. He seemed to be trying cartwheels, not quite making it, and trying again. Looking at her watch, Emily knew it was almost time to go.

“Do you like duck, Agent Hotchner?”

“I can live with it. I prefer a nice steak.”

“Steak is good. How about a burger and fries?” Emily asked.

“That’s even better.” He smiled.

“Both of our jobs is going to make planning this harder than the Malta Conference.”

“I'm in town on Tuesday.”

“How do you know?” Emily asked.

“I can do some planning ahead. Most of the time we pick our cases…its rare that they pick us.”

“A burger and fries on Tuesday sounds nice.”

“We can go to Clyde’s in Georgetown.” Hotch said.

“Too many sports on TV.” Emily shook her head. “Do you like the Georgetown Diner?”

“Yes,” he nodded.

“OK.” She tried not to smile from ear to ear but failed. Her eyes were downcast; Hotch put his finger under her chin and tilted them up. Then he kissed her cheek. “I’ll probably be overly cautious and on guard.”

“I don’t believe that.” Hotch said. “I’ll probably forget important things and hold emotions back.”

“I'm a very patient woman.”

“I think I might be a lucky man.” Hotch replied. “I don’t want the strange way this relationship began to affect where it could go.”

“Ditto.” Emily stood. “I have to get going. Jonah needs lunch and his nap.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow. I’ll call you tonight.”

“OK. Jonah! C'mon sweetheart, time to go home for lunch.”

He handed the ball off, waving goodbye to his friends and running into his mother’s arms. She smiled as she scooped him up and hugged him.

“How does bologna and cheese sound?” she asked.

“Good.” When he grinned he looked even more like his father. He didn’t know that and Emily wasn’t sure how she was going to eventually tell him.

“I want to introduce you to my friend, Hotch.”

“Hi, Hotch.” Jonah extended his tiny hand.

Hotch smiled, standing up to shake it. He couldn’t help but think that Jonah and Jack might be really good friends.

“It’s so nice to meet you Jonah.”

“What do you say?” Emily asked.

“Thank you.” He smiled.

“I'm going to go now. We’ll talk later on.”

“How are you getting home?” Hotch asked.

“We like to walk.” She put her son back down on the grass. “Don’t we Jonah?”

“Yeah! Bye Hotch.”

“Goodbye.” He waved, watching them walk across the grass and out of the park.

After all the times he thought of calling her but didn’t; Hotch had believed he was too late. When she looked back and smiled, it was clear that he wasn’t. Aaron Hotchner wasn’t lucky or knowledgeable about that kind of thing. He was a workaholic whose wife walked away because she believed the FBI would always come first. Hotch couldn’t tell her that she was wrong about that. While it was too late to prove that to his ex-wife, there was still time to prove it to himself.

***


End file.
